Destiny Kills

Chapter Thirteen

I blinked. To say I was surprised by her response would be something of an understatement. I’d spent so many years trying to contact her and not being able to, that to do it so easily now was shocking. Almost as shocking as her words, in fact.

It could only mean that she was no longer being drugged. But why would they do that, when they knew how dangerous she could be?

And if she wasn’t drugged, why had she not called the loch and escaped? Or did she, like me, fear that the little ones might not survive the experience?

I told you I’d come back.

And I told you to go to your father.

I did. He—I hesitated, gulping down pain. He awaits you on the forever plains.

She was silent for a long moment, then said, So you reached him before he died?

Yes.

Thank the Gods of sea and loch.

The relief, the loneliness, and the sheer and utter tiredness behind that statement had my eyes stinging. She’d been locked away from everything and everyone she’d loved for well over twenty years, and yet somehow, she’d clung to life. That must have taken more strength than I could ever imagine owning.

I’m here to get you and the kids out, Mom. Just like I promised.

Don’t. You’ll be caught again. She hesitated again, and the thick sense of energy that was her presence seemed to fade from the water. It’s too late for me anyway.

The words were soft, filled with a weariness that spoke of an acceptance of fate. Fear rushed through me and, for a second, I couldn’t even breathe. Because something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

Damn it, what had they done to her now?

I couldn’t lose her now. I wouldn’t lose her now. Not so soon after losing my dad.

You may not care about living or dying in that place, but the kids don’t deserve it. There was more anger in my voice than I realized, and I could feel her shock ripple down the psychic lines.

No, you’re right. They need to get out, before it’s too late for them, too.

Fear slivered through me. What do you mean?

She didn’t answer, and the power of her presence faded. I hit the water with my free hand in frustration, sending up a huge splash. Damn it, what the hell was going on over there? I continued to caress the water as my gaze ran across the dark hills, but there was absolutely nothing to see and no further response from my mother.

“No luck?” Trae said softly.

“Yes and no.” I rose and stepped out of the water, much to the disappointment of the waves. “I managed to contact her, but she keeps saying I can’t help her.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. The beat of his heart was strong and sure against my chest, his arms filled with a strength I knew I could depend on no matter what.

“What now?” he murmured, his breath gently stirring the hairs on the top of my head.

“Now, we go to bed. I’ll summon the dawn magic to do a more thorough investigation, and we can decide how to proceed from there.”

“That,” he said with a smile in his voice, “is the best suggestion I’ve heard yet.”

We made our way back to the cottage and then to bed, but sleep didn’t figure a whole lot into the equation. The night was a long one, filled with passion and tenderness, richened by the emotion that lay in every caress, every kiss, every sigh. We never said the words, but we didn’t need to. Not yet.

We finally fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms, sated and exhausted. If I dreamed, I didn’t remember it.

It was still dark when we woke the following morning. After showering and getting dressed, we headed out into the predawn darkness. Slithers of pink had barely begun to caress the sky with their warmth, and the air tingled with the power yet to come. It played across my skin, an energy that seemed more dangerous, and a lot wilder, than the energy that came from most lakes.

We crossed the A82 and walked down to the rocky shoreline, following it around the bay. As the streaks of pink intensified and changed, becoming bands of red and yellow that tainted the dark skies, the morning mist folded down across the hills, hanging so low it danced in wispy streams across the water, making loch and the surrounding land look somewhat dark and mysterious.

Once again, part of me longed to dive into those waters, to cavort and play and simply enjoy, as my ancestors had done for centuries. But I couldn’t—not until the scientists were gone and it was once again safe for my kind.

But there were things I could do—powers I could still call on—that might help my quest to free my mother. And the scientists, for all their equipment and sensors, wouldn’t have a clue as to what I was doing.

“Is it true they have a fiberglass statue of the monster over there?” Trae asked, his soft tones riding the stillness without jarring against it. “One that the kids climb all over?”

I pulled my gaze away from the loch and looked toward Drumnadrochit, a smile touching my lips. “I think so. Dad used to tell me stories about it when I was a kid, and about how he and Mom used to go get photographed beside it on special occasions, just for the fun of it.”

“How right did they get the shape?”

I smiled. “From what Dad said, she looks more like a castoff from the dinosaur period. Even pregnant sea dragons don’t look that bad.”

He grinned. “So I gather the color is wrong, too?”

“Yeah. They seem to think gray is a good color for sea dragons, but I think that’s the only color we don’t have.”

“Maybe they’re just too used to dolphins and whales, and think loch monsters would fancy the same shades.”

“Or it’s just a lack of imagination on the artists’ part. I mean, all they have to do is look at the other sea life. It’s not all gray. Far from it.”

Dawn’s energy began to beat through the air, flaying my skin with its raw power. I breathed it deep, feeling it fill me, warm me. Welcome me.

“It’s time,” I said softly to Trae, and untwined my fingers from his. “Wait here.”

I stepped into the water, letting the dark energy of the loch lap around my ankles and mingle with the force of the rising day.

On the horizon, the slivers of red and gold became a flood, streaking across the sky and obliterating the night. The energy in the air grew frantic, crawling across my skin like fireflies and making my hair stand on end.

There was so much raw, untamed power in this place. It filled me, enriched me, made me believe I could do almost anything.

But that had been my downfall last time, and I would not make that mistake again. This time, we’d take time. And I would ask for the help of the power that beat all around me.

As the throb of energy reached a peak, and the air came alive with the hum and power of a new day, I raised my arms, holding my palms skyward, letting the raw energy and the trailing mist caress my fingers.

“My brothers of the deep, dark water, and sisters of mist and sky, I beseech thy help.”

In the distance thunder rumbled, a deep earthy sound that made the dark waters tremble. Waves splashed up my legs, soaking past my thighs. The energy in the air seemed to concentrate on my hands, until they glowed with the same red and gold that brightened the skies.

“Show me what happens on our ancient lands,” I continued, my voice soft and yet somehow vibrating across the silence. “Show me the secret ways so that I may stop those who have invaded the serenity of this place and chased away the dragons.”

Again the thunder rumbled, stronger, deeper than before, and for a moment it seemed that the very land under my feet trembled. The mist stirred, and so did the loch, her waters shifting, moving, as if several fingers of current had suddenly formed. The energy encasing my hands leapt away with them, one following the lead of the water, the other following the streams of mist.

I closed my eyes and waited. Even through my closed lids, I could feel the day brightening. Her fingers of light were spreading ever farther, sucking away at the energy of the dawn.

Then the sky rumbled, long and slow, and again the loch stirred. Water hit my legs, swirling upward, soaking my thighs and my stomach, even as it whispered of old ways and secret passages. Then the mist returned, and with it the bright remainders of dawn’s power, regaining its perch on my hands before crawling up my arms and spinning around my hair. Images filled me. Buildings, stairs, and secret ways, along with people, trucks, and boxes.

The scientists were indeed getting ready to move.

“Thank you, brothers of the darkness, and sisters of mist and skies.”

Water slapped at my legs, then leapt away. The energy in the air went with it, leaving me feeling suddenly cold, and more weary than I’d thought possible.

I turned around and walked back into Trae’s arms. “How did it go?” he asked softly.

“I found a way in.” But it wasn’t one he could use, and he wasn’t going to be happy about it. I hesitated, then added, “There’s an ancient passage that runs from the bottom of the loch up to the original basements of our house. The passages that run beyond it lead to the cells where the kids and my mom are being held.”

He released me and stepped back a little. Gold glinted in his still damp hair, warmed by the growing light of day. “If that’s the case, the scientists would be aware of it. It’ll be alarmed.”

“The passage is disguised as a well and is covered for safety. It appears locked from above, but can easily be opened from the inside. It was apparently designed that way.”

Of course, it was highly possible that the passages outside the well room were monitored—in which case, how far I got would depend greatly on how close the scientists were to leaving, and how closely they were watching the security monitors.

He raised an eyebrow. “So it was an escape route for your ancestors?”

I shrugged. “More a refuge from those who would hunt the so-called Loch Ness Monster.”

“I thought it was scientifically impossible for caves and tunnels to form in the rock around the loch. Isn’t it the wrong sort of stone or something?”

“That I can’t say, not being up on all the geology of the area, but this passage wasn’t made by nature. It was made by my ancestors.”

“Ah.” He studied me for a moment, then asked, “How far down is this passage? And how long is the tunnel?”

“There’s no way you can use the tunnel, Trae. You can’t hold your breath long enough to get anywhere near the passage, let alone through it.”

He looked at me, then, and the bright blue of his eyes had given way to the steel of determination. “You are not going in there alone.”

“We have no choice in this. The passage was designed for sea dragons in human form.”

“Destiny—”

“No,” I said, so forcefully he raised his eyebrows. “I won’t let you risk it, Trae. It’s not worth your life.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just bent to pick up a stone and throw it in the loch. It landed in the water hard, throwing up a huge splash. The droplets seemed to hang in the air for a moment, glittering and sparkling in the growing brightness of the day.

“I cannot simply sit here and let you walk into a dangerous situation,” he said, his voice edged with an anger I could feel as much as I could see. “I promised to protect and help you, and I fully intend to keep that promise.”

“But not at the cost of your own life.”

“Nor yours.” He glared at me, determination fierce in his eyes. “There’s no way that, with all the security that’s going to be in and around that place, you’re going to get in and out unseen. No way.”

“If I can get in unseen, then I can get out the same way. We have no other choice.”

“There’s always more than one choice. Besides, I’m a very good thief, and I know more than a little about getting through high security.”

I hugged my arms around my chest. “Trae—”

“No. Either I help you, or I’ll stop you.” There was a finality in his voice that brooked no argument. “Besides, there’s one thing you seem to have forgotten.”

I frowned. “What?”

“The kids. If I can’t swim in or out that tunnel, then they’re sure as hell not going to be able to.”

God, he was right. I was an idiot. I sat down on a nearby rock and rested my head in my hands. “Then how are we going to get them out?”

“Easy. I create a diversion while you go in and free the kids and your mom.”

“That still leaves the problem of getting them out of the compound.”

His gaze ran across the water and studied the trees on the opposite shore. “How old are the kids again?”

“The oldest is fifteen, the youngest is seven.”

“So most of them should be able to shift shape and fly?”

I nodded. “All the boys can. Carli can shift, but she can’t hold shape very long. They took her too young and she just hasn’t had the practice.”

“But the others should at least be able to fly across the lake?”

I nodded, and studied him for a moment, watching the glint of sunshine run through the stubble lining his cheeks. Watching his blue eyes glitter and burn. “You have an idea?”

He nodded. “The best way to ensure they don’t notice you sneaking in is to give them something else to worry about.”

“But that could be dangerous. They know how to capture dragons, remember.”

“Not this dragon. Besides, I thrive on danger.” His words were gently mocking, but there was nothing mocking about the caring or determination in his eyes.

“But your skills are sunshine-linked. Our best chance of getting the kids and Mom out unseen is at night.”

“I agree, and yes, my flames are sunshine-linked. But there are other ways to light fires. Hell, matches have been around for ages.”

Matches meant getting a whole lot closer, though, and that was dangerous. But the resolve so evident in his eyes said there was no swaying him. “What about the kids, then?”

“Is there a way up onto the roof?”

I nodded. “There’s an old set of stairs near the cells, actually. I think the scientists have them locked off, but we could break the locks easily enough.”

“Good. Get the kids out first, and send them up the stairs. Twenty minutes after I start the diversion, I’ll make my way up there. I can carry little Carli, and the boys can fly after me.”

“Where to, though? It won’t be safe to bring them back here—they know the little ones can’t fly far, and will search through the closer villages.”

“The scientists are going to be too busy saving their asses and their work to immediately worry about finding the kids or you.”

I gave him a twisted smile. “The scientists never do what you expect them to—and they have a habit of anticipating my moves.”

“Then we book a cottage across the other side of the loch, somewhere that won’t strain the capabilities of young dragons who haven’t flown much.”

“That’ll work.” I studied him for a moment, then added, “Once the kids are safe, I can get Mom out through the well.”

He nodded. “It’s a good plan. Trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just don’t trust the scientists.”

He squatted down beside me, and touched a hand to my cheek. His soft caress sent a shiver of delight through every part of me. “Don’t forget that, no matter what, you can protect yourself. The loch is nearby—use the power of it if you need to.”

“I will.” But if one of the scientists had a gun, then the loch wouldn’t be of much use. I sighed and pushed the thought away. What was the point of dwelling on such things? There was enough fear churning my stomach already. “We should go back and eat breakfast.”

“The second best suggestion I’ve heard for while,” he said with a smile. He rose to his feet and offered me a hand up.

I let him tug me to my feet, then, hand in hand, we left the shoreline and walked up the hill, waiting until several trucks rolled past before crossing the road and making our way back to the pretty little cottage.

Breakfast was waiting in a hamper near the door. Trae scooped it up, then lifted the tea towel covering the top and sniffed deep. “Ah, lovely.” He tugged the towel completely off. “There’s fresh breads, homemade jams, and something that looks suspiciously like lumpy paste, but it’s hot.”

I laughed as I opened the door. “That’s probably going to be porridge. A favorite around these parts, according to my dad, who hated the stuff.”

“It’s not something my clique ever thought about eating, I can tell you.”

“It’s apparently good for keeping the belly warm.” I opened the door and ushered him inside. “You want a coffee?”

“Yep. It may be the only thing that washes down the paste.”

“You eat it with milk and sugar, dope.”

I made the coffee, then brought the two mugs over to the small table. We ate breakfast in comfortable silence, the scent of the breads and jams mingling with the warm spiciness of man, filling my lungs and stirring hunger—for the food, and for him.

But as much as I wanted to give in to the need to caress him, to let my fingers reacquaint themselves with all that tanned muscle, now was not the time.

We couldn’t afford to relax now, no matter how good or how pleasurable it would be. The men he’d flown off to the wilds of Canada might very well have gotten to a phone by now, in which case Marsten and his men would know I’d either be here or be on my way here. Maybe that was even why they were packing up. Either way, we had to keep alert. Last night had been a gift—but we dare not steal time like that again.

I sighed softly then rose to grab another cup of coffee. “So what do we do to fill in the day?” I said, walking across to the nearest window and looking out. A green car was slowly making its way toward our cabin. I wondered if it was Mrs. Molloy, back to collect her basket. “And don’t suggest a horizontal tango. We haven’t the time.”

“We have all day,” he said dryly.

I gave him a grin. “Yeah, but there’s only one head alert when we’re in bed, and it isn’t the one with the brain aboard.”

He laughed, a warm rich sound that had my toes curling. “You could be right there.”

Outside, the green car had slowed even further, allowing me time to study the driver. It was a male, not a female—not Mrs. Molloy, as I’d originally thought. He was big, his shadowy features rough-looking.

The sight of him had trepidation racing across my skin. I might not have seen this particular man before, but I knew what he was all the same. A scientist.

I stepped to one side of the window, hiding behind the blue and white checked curtains.

“What’s wrong?” Trae said quickly.

I held up a hand to silence him, and listened to the sound of the approaching car. It cruised past slowly, not stopping, but remaining at a speed that allowed the driver time to look and study.

They suspected.

But how? Why? I wasn’t within tracking distance, and I hadn’t done anything to attract attention, hadn’t gone anywhere to be noticed. And yet that man was looking at this cottage, not at any of the other houses or cottages nearby. Just this one, and this one alone.

Could Mrs. Molloy have told them that two Americans were staying here? She might claim to hate the scientists, but the almighty dollar was a great incentive to overlooking such feelings. I wouldn’t put it past the scientists to be paying the nosier folks in the village to keep an eye out for strangers with an American accent. Which I wouldn’t have thought would be exactly scarce in a town that thrived on tourism.

The car finally moved on. I peeked out the window, watching until it had disappeared over the hill, then spun around.

“We need to get out of here.” My gaze met the blue of his. “That was a scientist cruising past.”

“Damn.” He gulped down the rest of his coffee, then rose. “Was he pointing anything our way?”

“No.” Which didn’t mean the receiver couldn’t be on the seat next to him. “But why would they even suspect I’m here? The tracker only has a range of five hundred feet, so they can’t have caught the signal from the research center. Besides, if they had, why would they merely be doing a drive-by?”

“Maybe the signal was weak or intermittent. Maybe they want to be sure before they cause a fuss.” He shrugged. “Either way, it looks like we’ll need to go do a bit of sightseeing.”

I blinked. Why did this man always do that to me? “What?”

“Hiding in the open is always a good policy. People just don’t expect it. So, we’ll wander up to Urquhart Castle and spend the day there mingling with the tourists and remaining well out of any tracker range.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

I walked into the bedroom and grabbed our bags. Mine mightn’t hold much more than clothes, but I wasn’t about to leave anything behind that they could examine. It might only confirm any suspicions they had that I was here.

Because if they were anything more than just suspicious, they’d surely be doing a whole lot more than cruising past.

He took the bags from me and slung them over his own shoulder.

“The cottage hasn’t got a back door,” I said, “so we’ll have to use one of the rear windows.”

Amusement played around his mouth. “Considering the size of my . . . ego, do you think I’ll get through them easily enough?”

“Just,” I said dryly. I walked back into the kitchen and pushed up the window. “How about this time you go first?”

“You just want equal ass-viewing time.”

“And is there anything wrong with that?”

“Hell, no.” His words were solemn, but the twinkle in his eyes was very evident. “I am a very sexy guy with a very sexy ass, after all.”

“And I think Carly Simon sang a song about a man just like you.”

He grinned. “Impossible. I am unique.”

I was tempted to say “Thank god,” but given his mood, he’d probably take it as a compliment.

He tossed the bags through the window, then climbed out. After a quick look around, he turned and offered me his hand. I hesitated, then placed my fingers in his. The warmth of his flesh encased mine and sent a crazy tingle rushing across my skin.

My feet had barely hit the ground before he was drawing me toward him for a quick, tantalizing kiss.

“You keep doing that and we’re going to get ourselves into trouble,” I muttered, trying to ignore the excited pounding of my pulse and the aching need to melt back into his arms and just keep on kissing him.

“But it’s a good kind of trouble,” he said with a grin.

I whacked him lightly. “Behave. This is serious business.”

“So is the two of us.” His grin faded a little as he picked up the bags and slung them over his shoulder. “You ready?”

I nodded. “Are you sure this is going to be safe?”

“I doubt they’ll expect us to be playing tourist up at the ruins, and if even the tracker has a range double what you were told, we should be well enough away from them.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Because a crowded tourist spot didn’t exactly provide a whole lot of places where we could run and hide.

As it turned out, I was worrying over nothing. The sun tracked its way across the sky and we made like regular tourists, examining the ruins and having lunch and afternoon tea in the new visitors’ center.

It turned out to be a good day—a slice of everyday normality in a life that had been far from normal. At least for the last eleven years. Egan and I had been lovers, but it had been out of necessity and the need for companionship more than anything else. We’d never had the chance to do any of those things lovers normally do. Not even share after-sex small talk, because Egan had always been too aware of the scientists and their insidious monitors.

But today, with Trae, I got a taste of that—a taste of what it would be like to be his lover, his friend, the person he cared most about—and I had to say, it was nice. More than nice, really, because it was a glimpse of the future that might be mine if I survived the present.

The castle closed at five. We trailed out with everyone else, then made our way down to the shore of the loch, keeping in the shadows of the hill and the castle so that we were less likely to be noticed.

As we neared the shore, I picked up a pebble and tossed it high. It hit the water with a splash, sending glittering droplets spraying into the darkening skies. Ripples ran away from the spot where the stone sank, the circles growing ever stronger rather than weaker.

The loch knew I was near. She was waiting for me.

An odd tremor of excitement ran through me. I needed to get in there. Needed to reclaim that part of my heritage so long denied.

“It’s time to go.”

I placed my fingers in his, felt the quiver start deep inside. A quiver that was all desire, all want, all need.

He pulled me close, his body pressed so hard against my own that I could feel the beat of his heart. It was as rapid as mine.

“Promise me one thing,” he said, his words so close they whispered heat across my lips.

“What?” It was softly said, more a sigh than any definite word, but he seemed to understand all the same.

“You’ll call if you get into trouble. Scream, rant, rave, do whatever it takes. I’ll hear you, and I’ll come running.”

“If you promise to be careful. To not get caught.”

“I won’t get caught,” he said. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to get into the place, then I’ll start the diversion.”

I nodded. There was little else I could do. He smiled, and touched my chin lightly. “Don’t look so fiercely concerned. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. It’s why Egan asked me to join you, remember?”

“No, I don’t, because I couldn’t hear your conversation. And you don’t know what they are capable of.”

“It can’t be anything worse than what my father is capable of,” he said softly, then kissed me.

It was a good kiss, a kiss that was all heat and desire. A kiss that made promises I knew would never be fulfilled unless we survived the next few hours.

But we had to survive, because so many lives—young and old—depended on it.

When the kiss finally ended, I was breathless, aching, and wanting him more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. And I knew it was a want I just couldn’t act on.

“I have to go,” I said, and pulled away.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.”

Without looking at him any further, I stripped off my clothes. Once naked, I walked toward the icy waters. He didn’t say anything and neither did I.

It was only when the dark, murky waters closed over my head, and that strange sensation ran across my eyes, that I looked back at him. Even through the muck and the peat particles that ran through the water, I could see him quite clearly. The pile of my clothes was pooled around his feet and my bag was still clenched in his right hand.

He looked worried.

Really worried.

I turned around and dove deeper. The passage that had been carved through the rock so long ago lay at the very bottom of the loch, close to where the steep sides joined the flatter bottom. Despite the advances in technology, science had not yet found a way for sonar to cover the whole loch, and few bothered even trying to map the sides. Though given the rumors of tunnels and caves within the loch—rumors that had become almost as legendary as the monsters themselves—many had certainly tried. And with varying degrees of success, from what I’d been able to learn through my research as a teenager.

The passage became visible, even though it was little more than a deeper patch of blackness in the thick darkness that was the water. I slowed, edging into the rough-hewn mouth of the tunnel and wondering how long it had actually taken my ancestors to carve out. Wondering if they’d had help and how they’d protected those helpers once they’d finally broken through the last of the rock and the black water had rushed in.

Though I guess one way to protect a secret is to let none survive who know it—a motto I would yet have to consider if my mother and I were to have any hope of being left alone.

I shivered. I’d killed in the past to protect myself and those I cared about, and I’d undoubtedly kill again if it meant protecting my mother and the kids. But could I kill in cold blood? Was I physically capable of hunting down and killing all those who now knew of our existence?

I really wasn’t sure. And that was scary.

I swam on. The passage wasn’t arrow straight, as I presumed, but full of twists and turns, snaking through the hard rock. In several places there were rock falls—no doubt caused by some sort of seismic activity, because the rock just looked too heavy and solid for it to be any sort of wear—and the sharp edges scratched my belly as I squeezed past. Trae would have struggled, even if he had been able to hold his breath long enough.

Finally, the water pressure began to ease. Though the water felt no warmer and the visibility was no clearer, I knew I was nearing the top.

My head broke through the water, and I blinked. Once the protective film retreated across my eyes, I looked around.

Though it was pitch black, I could see well enough. I guess that was one of the benefits of being a sea dragon. We had to see in the darkest of waters, as well as through the murk of the loch’s deep waters. This well held little in the way of problems.

The walls here were as rough-hewn as the walls of the tunnel, the marks of the picks that had hacked through the rock still very evident even after all this time. Sludge and God knows what else slicked the walls, some of it hanging in thick green tendrils. No light twinkled from high above. Indeed, there was nothing to indicate this well had an exit point at all. The only indication I had that there was an escape was the faint stir of fresher air through the dank atmosphere of the well.

I reached for the handholds carved deep into the rock and began to climb.