Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (15 page)

BOOK: Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series)
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No,” Ailill argued gently. “More likely, you won't like me. Once you’ve come to know me. I am not just some lass.”

Clearing his throat with decision, Micah disagreed, shaking his head for emphasis, though she could not see it. “No, you’re not. I loved you since the very first dream, Ailill. I knew it was
you
when Annie said you were on your way, weeks ago, but when I tried to find out about you, no one seemed to know anything, and anyone that did wouldn’t say much. Just speculation, that’s all I got, really.”


And?” Ailill leaned closer, the heat rolling off her drawing his head back around. He could almost swear she was fevered. The tips of his fingers tingled with the recent memory of her overheated flesh; he rubbed them hard against the scratchy wool of his kilt, head cocked to one side as he observed her silhouette. “When did you know it was truly me?”


What, my dream girl? When I watched you come up the trail behind your grandmother. I saw you and I just knew.” His chagrin was almost tangible. “I’m sorry I watched you. I... couldn’t look away. And then...” He left the rest hanging between them, unsure how to put into words everything he had ever felt for her since that first dream back in Texas; twelve years old, recovering from the most brutal beating he'd ever had from the man he never believed was his real father, and the vision of supernatural beauty had been half-hallucination, the effect of Jacob’s helpful intervention. He still remembered the look of bald fear in his twin’s eyes as Jacob held the hand-carved bowl to his battered lips, urging him to hold in the aromatic smoke though Micah had felt as if his chest would explode, most of his ribs cracked in more than one place by fists as hard as granite. The soothing effect had numbed him, from the torn mouth to the very tips of bruised fingers and toes, a dreamy stupor pulling at his heart until he felt the reality of the fairy-goddess he could see standing beside his bed, her eyes as wide as saucers, full of righteous anger, of sadness, her everyoung face shimmering like gold-dust. His preferred method of escape had been the sweet
green goddess
ever since. Micah half-wished he had a bit now; his heart ached from more than the pummeling his chest had endured once again; it seemed that Kiah had chosen a new favorite, as far as punishments go.


I loved you as if you
were
real, Ailill. I believed in you with all my heart since I was twelve, even though Jacob used to make fun of me for it. The dreams helped me get through every hardship, helped me save myself, for you; and then, suddenly, they stopped, when we left Texas. That trip took months, always traveling at night, on foot; always careful to cover our tracks ‘cause Kiah insisted... it was like we were bein' chased by something, or someone; we got here the winter before last and I waited for the dreams to begin again but they did not. I figured it was because I had come home, to the place I always knew I was meant to be. The trees, you see," he whispered, gazing out at the darkness of the forest, "the green for miles around, that seemed always to be the backdrop of my dreams; an unreal color, the only thing missing was your fiery hair against the emerald leaves... you.” He stopped, feeling not a little sad, willing the lump in his throat away so that she would not know his true feelings for her, a stranger to all but his heart.  


I dreamt o’ you, as well, Micah. Only, I knew you were as real as me before I met you in the dreamworld. It was a connection we shared for... six years, before I severed it willfully. Does that sound about right?” Ailill’s tone was apprehensive; she could feel the depths of his own feelings as if they were her own, was rather unsettled by the fact.

Astonished, Micah nodded soundlessly. “Six years, that’s exactly right,” he agreed when he found his voice. “I... mmm. How? Why?”


How is as I said, a connection. Jacob has got it as well, but he denies himself the happiness he seeks, the comfort; that is why he is such an... mphmm, avid lover? With the many lasses he has bedded;
he
seeks to escape from everything, including me. Why, though...well, I guess that will never be answered completely. We are meant to be, all of us. A
chosen
few.” Glancing up quickly at the emphasis she had put on the word, Micah could not help asking why she stopped visiting his dreams. “Oh, well, that is where my selfish nature comes out.” Her tone was so embittered that Micah eyed the girl uneasily, his gaze taking in the barest gleam of copper in her long hair, the sparkle of the diamond in her nostril, nothing more. “I am to be shared, lad. A prize of the highest honor, given freely into the hands of the triple aspect, so that I may bring forth many more. That is my lot in life, my burden to bear.”


What does that mean?”


Och, then, frankness it is, my bonnie raven prince. Very impressive for you to come to the point... It means, Micah, that my sheets will not be warmed by only you, if you choose to lie with me to begin with. It means,” Ailill said angrily, “that I am to be yours,
and
Jacob’s,
and
Tiernan’s, my love back in Scotland, though I don’t know for certain that he will have me after I have lain with both of you. He sent me away, to be with you, and he was damn near dead when he did it!”

Micah was silent for a long while, his thoughts more jumbled than when he had been drunk, his mind troubled by what Ailill had said. “This guy, in Scotland,” he settled on at last. “What happened to him?”


The wretched disease that has killed half o’ mankind.”


Oh.”


Aye.”

Micah sniffed softly, took her hand. His fingers tightened ever so slightly, a match to the feeling in his throat at thought of the losses he had suffered, too. He tactfully changed the subject. “He didn’t die, though? Your boyfriend?”

Hearing her relationship with Tiernan stated in such simple terms made Ailill pause, her gaze trained on the lad before her. She wondered at the possibility that Micah did not recognize the name, seemingly not at all. “No," she said softly, "but I blame myself either way. We, mphmm. Sweet Brigit but the truth is difficult to say!” When she tried to yank her hand away, Micah pulled her closer, holding tight.


I’m willing to listen, not place blame. Tell me everything, Ailill, because the next time we are on the brink of makin’ love, I don’t wanna share it with a ghost. Even a living one.”


We don't normally have such useless aches, headaches and the like,” she began slowly, leaning into him a bit. “I had been busy tending to a great many who were dying of the sickness, yon horrible plague, and then we were forced to battle. A small feud, but still enough to call a many to arms. Upon returning, I learned that my father had demanded my return to Hidden Jewel. I had, senselessly, let on that I knew where you'd been living, you see, in that wretched desertland, though I'd only just begun to figure it out the year before, and I'd been wrong so many times already. I guess I didn't have faith in myself, for I doubted the truth even when I was fairly certain. Although I voiced the possibility that I was likely wrong again, there was something that made them sure that time. Straightaway, a search was sent out for you, but Kiah had made sure you weren't found; even by then, you'd apparently been gone awhile, and then, in the meantime, you had all shown up here, at my parents home, in the dead o' winter. I was called to return within the week, you see, and, once again, I refused."

"Well, months passed and I wouldn't5 be swayed. I was determined, quite stubbornly insistent, if you want to know the truth, that I would
not
come back here. I refused to hear anyone out. In a single last effort, Tiernan took it upon himself to give me the bad news, that you'd both become too comfortable here, amongst the villagers, that Jacob had taken to hoorish ways while you, Micah, had become introverted, spent all your time in the forest. The Elders deemed it to be too dangerous for us all if I didn't come, at least to meet you. James and Annie insisted I return to them, supposedly to help you better adapt to the lifestyle you will live amongst your true peers, though I knew their reasons were far more self-serving than that. James had the nerve to obtain an
achd
, a decree signed by the
Ard Banrigh
, Herself, to remove me, bodily if necessary, to Hidden Jewel. Tiernan was honest, forthright about all of it, as he had been about everything a few years ago when he clued me into my fate, the truth o' my obligations to the Tribe. I was furious, and rightly so. I had fought against my return for two years. I believed I had won, ye ken, and I didna wish to leave my home, nor my love, for I truly love the lad, but it seemed I had been given no choice. I fought with him over it, taking out all my feelings on him as I always had, only that time, I lost control; he sided with my parents, see, and I felt the betrayal like a dirk plunged deep in my heart." Her voice was low, husky with the memories dredged up, face turned away, in shadow; in shame.

"I struck him, which is never acceptable. It is the first Law, and I broke it. Tiernan just stood there, takin’ all my fury with a warrior’s stoicism, and then he kissed me. It was not the first time we’d kissed, only... I wouldn't let him stop that time. I knew how he wanted me, as I wanted him, though it isn't for him, my innocence well guarded, a gift for one of
you
. I believe I talked him into claimin’ it anyway; we would face the consequences after the fact, and show our love as we had wished for so long. When we, Tiernan and I, were just about as close to, hmm, sacrificing my innocence, as you and I were in yon kitchen, he suddenly fell terribly ill; the headache which he had complained about since returning from battle not long before, well... I had ignored it as the most obvious sign of something amiss, though the signs were crystal clear. As a healer, I had failed the lad. Utterly. He thought he had hurt
me
when he saw the blood.”

Micah could not hide his agitation at hearing her recount the intimacy she'd shared with another. His leg joggled against the swing until Ailill stilled it with a light touch. His fingers curled convulsively over her own, jealousy humming through his veins. When she began to talk about blood, he misconstrued her meaning and became angry.


Y’all lied to me then,” he accused harshly, interrupting. “I thought you were a virgin, that you were cryin’ ‘cause I came so close to taking it! I felt terrible for you, Ailill, and I don’t hold with lyin’.”

Unable to hide her surprise at his outburst, Ailill yanked her hand away with a forceful tug. “I
am
a virgin! I didn't lie!” she cried vehemently. Anger swept over her with a swiftness that would have been surprising, if she had not been fighting it for so long already. “I cannot lie, 'tisna possible! The blood was his, ye fuckin’ arse,” she hissed, furious. “When ye moaned, in the kitchen, I began to believe you were him, expected you to be bleedin’ out all over me, like
he
did. The vision was so real, I cannot tell you how it affects me. Tears are naught; the
filth
of such a disease! I tried to heal him, he screamed at me to go, to let him die alone; he said he
hated
me, for everything I had ever done! For bein' alive. He made me swear to come to you and Jacob or he would make sure he died after all. I didn’t have a choice! I swore to hate you and I cannot. I swore to stay away and I am drawn to ye, Micah. You
don’t
know me, not a single thing of import have I shared, but I know
you
. I know yer past and yer future as if they were me own! Like lightning to the earth, we are compelled toward one another. ‘Tis in your eyes. I was so ready, so willin’ against my will, but when I believed ye to be him, I wanted to, mphmm, wanted-”

When he could take no more, Micah cut off Ailill’s ranting with his mouth, the force behind his kiss mercilessly stealing her breath, the hardness of his teeth splitting the tender skin inside of her lips until she tasted blood, her own this time. When she moved to pull away, he bit her lip with surprisingly sharp teeth, pain making her eyes water even as his fingers wound through her damp hair, holding her tight against himself, still, as his tongue flicked over the blood he had drawn; a sound rumbled deep within himself, of ecstasy, need, his baser instincts bringing out a forcefulness he had believed he did not possess. The pain of sharp fingernails digging into the skin of his arms brought a gasp to his lips, breaking the connection momentarily, long enough for his teeth to clamp down against her throat, tongue moving in a circular pattern that made her writhe against him at last, as she had earlier. The tiny punctures he made, drawing blood, startled Ailill into awareness, his erection rising up between her thighs too close to triumph.

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