The Morrigan: Damaged Deities (12 page)

“Ye can drop the act, Nan.”

Milky eyes blinking, she stared at him a moment before humphing and sitting up straight, her voice clear as a bell. “Ye’ve no’ changed.  Ye look the same as ever.”

“Ye’re still the flatterer,” he answered with a grin.

“Ye’re still my beautiful boy.  How are ye?” she asked, her eyes lifting to his, searching and hopeful. “Are ye being good?  Are ye stayin’ out o’ trouble?”

“Depends on who ye ask,” he smiled.  But he knew she could see through it.  She could always see through his cockiness and bluster.

“Ye always were the blindest tae yer own happiness.”

“With good reason, ye know that.” 

Nan had been a front-row witness to some of the most painful moments of Kade’s life and had been a confidant to his heartbreak.  She knew him better than he knew himself and never forgot a thing.

“There’s something different about ye,” she said.  She freed a shaky hand and brushed the back of her fingers down his cheek. “There’s a light here I’ve no’ seen on ye before.”

“It’s just too much sun,” he answered her intense inspection of his face, trying to not let his confused scowl show.  She’d never talked of “light” before.

“Ye’ve not had too much sun,” she tsked.

“I was talking about you,” he joked and placed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Do ye feel well?”

Cursing him in old Gaelic, Nan scowled, slapped his hand away, and grumbled, “Yer jokes will no’ interfere wit’ me, lad. Somethin’ has changed ye.” 

Once again her eyes set to roaming, studying, making Kade feel uncomfortable, as though they could read him like a book. 

Suddenly they grew wide.  “Or some
one
.  Ye’ve met a girl.”

Apparently they could.

Instantly Kade thought of Morrie.  And he couldn’t help but grin. 

How angry she had looked at Carrie in the store, as though she could rip the girl’s eyes out of her head for being so silly and lazy. 

A part of him had thought—hoped—that it had been in jealousy.  That maybe Morrie felt a little of the undeniable attraction and connection they had.  But she made it clear things were to remain strictly professional between them.

Tell that to his cock. 

Still it longed for her touch, as though it and his whole body had been forever altered by her small hand.

Professional
.  The lass could try to keep things professional, and Kade could forever endeavor to change her mind. 

A revelation that shook him. 

He was walking into dangerous territory, one to which he had since been bound like a punishment. 

Kade knew betrayal too well.  The last time he gave his heart to a woman, she ripped it out of his chest and shredded it with her evil claws.  So why was he so bold with Morrie?

Because she was different. 

“Yes, it is a lass,” Nan hissed with pleasure at her discovery. “I see it on yer face.  She’s changed the lines o’ yer face.”

“I’ve had plenty of lasses before, Nan,” Kade waved off her wide-eyed hope. “Ye know I have commitment issues.”

“This one’s different,” Nan echoed his very thoughts.

Kade wrapped his arms around his chest and hunkered forward, chewing on the inside of his lip. 

This one was different—but why? 

Since that first disastrous relationship, women had come and gone in Kade’s life like the morning train; he’d always preferred it that way.  And when one thought she could give chase, Kade had quickly disappointed her.  He would not play games with any lass when so many were waiting to occupy his bed for the night.  And that’s all he ever wanted from them—one night, nothing more. 

Don’t give them the opportunity to destroy you.

This one was practically running away—he’d never seen a woman gather her clothes and rush from his bed so quickly—and yet here he was, an ass after a carrot.

“What’s her name, lad?”

Brought out of his thoughts, Kade looked down at the old lady and took her hand back in his while she waited with her knowing smile.  There was no use putting up fronts with her—the woman could see through them all.

“Morrie. Morrie Brandon.”

Had he seen that happiness fade?  Like a wince affecting Nan’s features. 

She pulled her hand free and gathered back up her needlework, her gaze on it wistful as she sat silent for a moment. 

“Ye’ve seen me change so much over the years, I wonder if ye were tae go back in time, would ye recognize me still.”

Kade frowned at the sudden change of subject, but grinned. “Of course I’d know ye, Nan.  Ye’re my Nan.”

“There was a time I wasn’t, though.  There was a time I was something else tae ye and I remember how ye were then.  The walking wounded, ye were.  Remember my dear boy, always remember: the past has a way of catching up tae ye, no matter how long or how far ye run.”  She offered him a sad smile before resuming her clicking.

So Nan’s mind was finally going. 

“Alright, Nan,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll remember.”

“Go get yer girl, lad.  It’s what ye were meant tae do,” she said, her voice low and serious. “But try no’ tae wait another five years tae see me again. I may no’ be here when ye return.”

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

“War is what happens when language fails.”

Margaret Atwood

She’d heard the whistle before she noticed the man.  Without even looking up, Morrie knew Kade approached her on his way home from town, whistling a slow, sad tune as he hiked.  She could feel his presence. 

As soon as he noticed her, that tune changed, a grin creeping at his lips.

“Told ya the ol’ girl didna like tae be gripped so hard,” Kade smirked, stopping in front of her.

Arms crossed, Morrie expressed her lack of amusement with a dull glare. “That’s not what happened.  This rusted bucket of junk lost a wheel.”

“Ack, don’t speak o’ her so,” he chided, pulling his hands free of his coat pocket, frowning with fake concern.  He sidled around to the driver side, inspecting the damage. “Tis’ nothing, I can fix her right up.”

Morrie jumped off the back and stood behind him as he crouched down beside the truck.  Leaning his shoulder into the side, he lifted the truck up, giving enough space beneath the tire to straighten the wheel.  Morrie’s eyes widened with surprise.

“It’s a lot lighter than it looks,” she said, impressed.

With the wheel corrected, Kade stood up and faced her, dusting his hands off.  “Looks can often be deceiving, Morrie.  And I’ll be takin’ tha ride now, if ye doona mind.”

“Not if you’re driving,” she replied dryly, tossing him the keys.

Once inside and chugging down the road, the truck’s cabin seemed much smaller than before.  Kade’s body filled it like an occupying force. 

Morrie kept her face free of expression as she watched the horizon, but still noted with an occasional glance the way Kade leaned back casually, his strong, tan hand hanging over the wheel while he rested his arm on the window.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see him looking at her, watching her more often than the road.

“Are you determined to wreck us?” she asked.

“I know this road better than my own home,” he replied with a deep voice Morrie only then noticed had a way of vibrating her ribcage. “Doona worry yer bonnie head, lass.  Ye’re safe wi’ me.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

He chuckled, but she kept her face turned away from him, watching the landscape slowly pass by.

“Ye know, the shore’s a bit past the house on this road.  There’s a great restaurant there right on the water.  It’s about lunchtime anyway, what do ye say for stopping for a bite?”

“No, thank you.”

“They serve Dr. Pepper.”

She looked at him at that, knowing her face was bright and hopeful despite herself.  He had one dark eyebrow quirked, waiting. 

Opening her mouth to speak, Morrie struggled a moment longer with her basic urges before saying, “Well, I guess I am hungry.”

“I’m no’ too ashamed tae admit that hurt, Morrie.” Kade had his eyes back on the road, a smile playing at his full, soft lips, though his tone had been serious. “That a soda is more appealing tae ye than me.”

With her stunned gaze on him, a grin crept its way on her lips before she could hold it back, lightening her words.

“Well, it’s been two days since I’ve had any.”

“Ye could’ve had plenty last night had ye stayed in bed,” he quipped, his voice dropping seductively.

“Is everything about sex with you?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Canna help myself,” he muttered, a tone of genuine disbelief entering his voice. “When I’m around ye, I seem tae lose my mind.”

In a way, his admission was a surprising compliment, and Morrie couldn’t help smiling at it. 

He frowned.  “My god, is that a smile I see?” He made a show of looking at her, inspecting her face, which only made it harder for her to squelch the silly expression back down. “Doona hide it, Morrie, my dear, that’s the first time I’ve seen ye smile.  It’s beautiful.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, facing forward but her lips still upturned.

“Quite right, lass,” he adopted a playful serious tone. “Put that thing away, wouldna want the angels above tae cry with jealousy over its beauty.”

Morrie rolled her eyes and glanced at him.

Something odd happened inside of her, a weird sensation like she had been filled with warm, rich chocolate.  Every time she looked at him, at that bright smile he flashed and the warmth in his eyes, it seemed to stir that molten feeling.

“Just speakin’ the truth.”

“You speak with too much familiarity.” She rested her head in her hand, watching him.  He locked eyes with hers and somehow their chocolate depths darkened, his voice husky when he spoke.

“I really canna help it,” he answered. “I feel as though I know ye, as though I’ve known ye my whole life.”

She felt it, too, an odd and inexplicable connection that seemed to justify her sudden lust.  And though the feeling was brief and fleeting, it sent a shock through her body. 

Unable to think straight, Morrie sat up and looked out, hoping if she focused on the storm clouds rolling in, it would help relieve the strange sensations at play within her.  Lips parted, she took a breath.

“How much farther?” 

Kade cleared his throat. “Not much.”

Thank the gods
, Morrie thought.  Another half mile and she might end up ordering Kade to pull over and take her there in the cow pastures.

The old truck struggled the last ten yards up the drive to the restaurant.  It was nothing more than a dark, worn out shack sitting on top of a seaside cliff, but it had a sort of gothic, romantic appeal. 

Down below several fishing boats were docked, their nets spread out and hanging.  A couple of other trucks were parked outside, facing the ocean. 

Morrie frowned at the deteriorated state and wondered what kind of food a place so destitute would serve.  She jumped down from the truck, mud splashing as her feet hit the ground, her eyes on the old building. 

Kade came around, his black Wellies squishing in the mud.  “Come now, lass, doona be afraid,” he said and placed a hand on her lower back, ushering her forward.

“I’m not afraid,” she muttered. “Just apprehensive.”

He laughed and took her elbow as they both climbed the rickety, rain-slick steps.

Morrie felt remorse over her quick judgment; inside the restaurant was warm and cozy, with soft lamplight and polished tables and chairs.  Best of all, it was clean and well kept. 

A large, redheaded woman stood behind the bar, a white apron strained around her waist.  She was wiping her hands with a dishtowel when she looked up, her eyes brightening at the sight of Kade.  It would seem the whole town had that reaction to him.