To Ride A Púca (26 page)

The night air was cool upon her skin and it felt good. Since the attack she hadn’t been able to center and regain complete control of her power and it was making her overheat. The clean scent of rain was thick upon the air and she found herself longing for its cleansing touch. She couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to stick her dagger in that man’s thigh. It had been easy, like an overripe melon, and it had felt good. If she’d had the chance she would have hurt him more. Anger and guilt warred within her, leaving her feeling dirty.

When she rounded the barn she saw a figure at the edge of the forest, leaning against a tree. By both the posture and the light green and red energy that surrounded him, Neala knew it was Bren. Emotion surged up and tried to overwhelm her. She broke into a run, leaving her emotions behind. He met her halfway, lifted her off her feet, and crushed her to him. They clung to each other so tight that she couldn’t breathe.

Bren drew back and took her face in his hands. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his world and it made her heart hurt. How could she have stayed so mad at him? If she had died today she would have never seen his handsome face again, would have never been able to touch him again.

“Irial told me what happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect ye,” he said.

“Ye can’t be with me every moment, and I can take care of meself,” she said, trying not to let the anger his words caused to enter her voice.

She wanted to pull away, but she hesitated. She needed to be in his arms, to know if that’s what she wanted,
who
she wanted.

“I should be takin’ care of ye and nothin’ should keep us apart,” he said as he traced a finger down the line of her jaw. Fire remained in the trail of his touch. She pressed her cheek against his hand. This was a fire she wanted to be burned by, wasn’t it? His words and his touch had the opposite effect though.  

“Irial told me ye fought bravely,” he said, voice filled with pride.

His tone ignited the fire that his touch had set to smoldering. Finally, he was proud of her for what she could do. Power spread out through her body on a surge of desire. They pulled one another close at the same time. Neala’s eyes fluttered only half closed as their lips met. She wanted to see him as well as feel him. His lips had always been soft and gentle but now they were firm and eager. The sensation stirred up the fear she’d felt that night in the cave, but she fought against it. She reached beneath his tunic and touched the smooth, tight skin of his back.

This was what she wanted, a lad from her Order, not a Dane. Despite her conviction, part of her didn’t believe it. She shoved that part down as deep as she could.

As their lips and skin touched Bren’s power cascaded over her. It felt like tiny sparks that tried to sink in but instead slid off her skin like it was oiled. Just as breathtaking was the feeling of his tongue touching hers. One of his hands buried in her hair to cradle her head while the other slid up her tunic and touched her bare back. His hand was hot but it felt amazing. Her senses were being overloaded but she forced herself not to pull away.

She stopped kissing him long enough to pull his tunic up and over his head. They were locked in an embrace again before it hit the ground. His fingers worked clumsily at the laces of her bodice causing her stomach to leap into her throat. It was hard to breathe around the fear.

She wanted this, she wanted him. Didn’t she?

“Neala!” Tyr’s frantic voice shattered the moment.

She wasn’t sure if the voice was real or if it was her guilty subconscious until Bren stopped kissing her. A moment later he was torn from her and she was left grasping at nothing but air. The relief she felt made her want to throw up. So much for convincing herself Bren was who she wanted.

“Get away from her you bastard!” Tyr cried.

Fists started flying, forcing Neala back. Bren dodged Tyr’s attacks and wove easily around him. The Dane’s muscular build did him little good considering he couldn’t land a punch on Bren.

“Tyr stop!” Neala yelled.

He didn’t listen. She yelled again and again but still they fought. It was too much. All that built up power poured out of her and slammed into Tyr, knocking him down into the pine needles. Using what remained of her power to propel her faster, Neala jumped in front of Bren, both shielding him and holding him back.

“No Tyr, please stop. It’s only Bren,” she said.

Tyr leaped to his feet and strode up to her. His chest heaved and his eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and fear. This time it wasn’t fear of her though. It looked more like fear
for
her.

“I thought he was trying to rape you. After what happened today. . . I thought. . .” his voice trailed off.

Bren’s power spiked with anger. It was hot against Neala’s back. She reached back and placed a hand against his chest, both to calm him and stop him from going after Tyr again. After today she was in no mood to see bloodshed, especially when it was that of two people she cared about.

“Bren would never do that,” she said.

“I didn’t know he was your friend,” Tyr said as he looked down.

By the way he avoided eye contact and couldn’t stop fidgeting it wasn’t hard to tell if he was lying. But if he had known, then he hadn’t wanted Bren to touch her. She didn’t want to think about what that meant but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Liar,” Bren said.

Tyr’s eyes snapped in Bren’s direction. The furious look in them gave Neala a chill.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not trying to spoil a beautiful young woman who deserves better,” Tyr said.

Shock cooled Neala’s power and drove it back to the center of her being. He had called her beautiful. Her. The girl who had endured teasing and beatings from the children of her village since she was little. Did he mean she deserved better than being spoiled outside of marriage, or did he mean she deserved better than Bren? Both options made her mad. Was he questioning her ability to defend herself, or her choice in men?

“That’s funny, a Dane standin’ up for a woman’s virtue,” Bren said.

That raked along her nerves but Neala did her best to ignore it. Before getting to know Tyr, she wouldn’t have believed it herself. She stepped forward and poked Tyr in the chest. His gaze shifted to her and there was pain in his eyes.

“Bren wouldn’t hurt me or dishonor me without me consent,” she said.

Tyr’s brow furrowed as the pain in his eyes intensified. He took her hand in his and cradled it as though it was fragile and precious. “Neither would I,” he whispered.

His words dissolved the reply that had been waiting on her tongue. The heat from his huge hand around hers was stifling but not in a bad way. It surprised her that someone as big and powerful as him could have such a gentle touch.

“I know ye wouldn’t,” she said.

Power rolled around Neala and slammed into Tyr, pushing him back a step and tearing his hand from hers. Less than a heartbeat later Bren stood between her and Tyr, his volatile energy just as much a barrier as his half-naked body.

“Keep yer hands off me lass,” Bren growled.

Being referred to as someone’s property brought Neala’s power rushing to the surface in the wake of her fury.

“I didn’t realize she belonged to you. Considering what happened today you should really take better care of your property,” Tyr said in a deadly calm tone.

Hearing them both refer to her like that pushed her over into full blown rage. She shoved Bren aside, using a touch of her power when he wouldn’t move. The power was enough to make him stumble back. Tyr laughed.

“You can’t even control her. Now I see why you need someone else to protect her,” he said through a huge grin.

Fury exploded through Neala. “I’m not anyone’s property and I don’t need anyone to protect me,” she yelled at them both.

They stared at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths. She let out a frustrated cry and turned to storm off. She couldn’t care less if they beat each other senseless just then. It wouldn’t take much considering how daft they were being. Having two boys fight over her was nothing like she’d imagined it would be.

Tears of frustration burned her eyes. After what he’d been trying to pull, how
dare
Bren treat her like his property. Anger seethed through her power like lightning. Hadn’t she made it clear that she wanted to mean more than that to him? Did he truly care about nothing more than possessing her? It was certainly starting to seem that way.

25

From her position high within her favorite tree, Neala could see the energy signatures of two riders approaching. She swallowed the bit of tart apple she’d been chewing and dropped the core, hand going for her sword hilt. With a second look, she realized the energy of the riders was familiar. More than that, it was comforting, like that of her parents’, only different.

A quick glance back through the trees revealed her da still chopping wood and her ma working out back in the garden. They were oblivious to the approach of riders. It was a good thing they weren’t Danes. Letting out a sigh, Neala shook her head and jumped from the bench as the riders approached.

For the fifty foot drop, she had to push down with her power, using it to cushion her landing. The red mare that Irial rode upon shook its head and came to an abrupt halt. Squealing, the brown mare that Ciara rode on crow-hopped sideways away from Neala. With a firm hand and a few colorful words in the old tongue, Ciara got the horse back under control. Eyes narrowing to slits, Ciara gave Neala a tight-lipped smile.

“Sorry about that,” Neala said, and actually meant it.

It surprised her that she felt bad about nearly unseating her rival for Bren’s affection. She tried to dredge up a distaste for the girl but it refused to manifest. Since that night at the fire—the bonding—there was something about Ciara that simply wouldn’t allow Neala to hate her. Shrugging her conflicting emotions aside, she turned to Irial and nodded.

“What brings ye to me home, Rector?” Neala asked.

A warm smile softened Irial’s sharp features. “No need for titles among friends.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that ye haven’t been to me home but once,” Neala said as she fought the flush that heated her cheeks.

Irial shook her head and looked down for a moment before fixing Neala with an apologetic look. “For that I am sorry. Were these not such dire times then I’d be calling upon ye daily like a normal friend.” With that she gave Ciara a short nod.

Straightening in the saddle and fixing a blank look on her face, Ciara moved her horse forward a step. “There is word the Danes have been sighted on the east side of yer land. We’ve come to ask if ye’ll escort us to scout the area.”

“Course, I just need to tell me parents and get Dubh.”

Pale eyebrows rising, Ciara cocked her head. “Dubh?”

It suddenly occurred to Neala how strange that sounded. “That’s me horse.”

Something between a snort and a laugh issued from Ciara. “Ye named yer horse a color?”

“Ciara!” Irial snapped.

Ciara flinched and she dropped her head. Her horse started to dance and tug at the reins but she ignored it. “Sorry,” she muttered.

A pang of sympathy shot through Neala’s chest. “Tis all right. Ye’re right after all. I did name him after a color. He came back from the war with me brother’s sword and I wasn’t exactly feelin’ creative at the time,” she said. It came out sounding dull and void of emotion but she couldn’t help it. A part of her shut down every time she thought of that day.

The pout of Ciara’s lips smoothed out and her eyes widened as they met Neala’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Turning to lead the way, Neala shrugged. “No worries, ye couldn’t have known.”

As soon as they stepped out of the trees her da set the axe aside and drew an arm across his sweaty brow. Cecily came from around the side of the house, clapping her hands together, sending dirt puffing up from them. Though she smiled, her lips were pulled a bit too tight and her eyes were narrowed. Irial and Ciara dismounted.

“Ma, da, ye remember Irial. This is Ciara…I’m sorry Ciara, I’m afraid I don’t know yer last name,” Neala said.

She frowned at Ciara as a feather of guilt brushed against her mind. The girl was part of her Order, she should know these things. A slight smile graced Ciara’s lips.

“O’Cleary,” she said.

Neala turned back to her parents. “Ciara O’Cleary. Ciara, these are me parents, Ardal and Cecily O’Carroll.”

Much to Neala’s relief, the pleasantries commenced without incident or embarrassment, despite the sharp glare of her ma’s eyes. Irial took a cloth-wrapped package from inside her cloak and handed it to Cecily. The heady aroma of fresh baked bread wafted out when Cecily unwrapped it. Some of the tension drained from her crackling power and she almost smiled.

“Thank ye,” she said.

Comfort radiated from Irial’s power. “Ye’re most welcome. I apologize that we came calling on Neala unannounced again. I was hoping she could take Ciara out for a ride while the three of us have a chat. Tis only right that ye have the chance to get to know me, and I’ve no doubt ye have questions for me,” she said.

A long sigh eased from Cecily. She stepped beside Ardal and looped an arm through one of his. Giving Irial a genuine smile, she nodded. “We’d like that very much, thank ye.”

From behind her parents’ backs Neala smiled and mouthed the words “thank you” to Irial. If she hadn’t covered so well for Neala, her parents never would have let her go. The truth wasn’t something they could handle right now.

“Come on inside Irial. I’ll get some tea on to go with this lovely bread,” Ardal said as he turned toward the house.

Irial winked at Neala as she walked past and her energy brushed across her like a warm summer breeze, taking the last of her anxiety with it. She wasn’t sure if she should feel bad for Irial, or her parents. This was one conversation she really wished she could eavesdrop on.

Eyes hardening in a flash, Cecily caught Neala’s gaze. “Ye girls be back before dark. And please, be careful.” Though her tone started out harsh, it softened and became vulnerable with the last words.