Time Everlastin' Book 5 (10 page)

The path gradually merged
onto an enormous plateau predominately lit by the mysterious
blueness. At first glance, she thought she had entered an ice
cavern, but the magnificent formations bordering her on two sides,
at closer inspection, were radiating fibrous crystals of
natrolite.

Her boss' wife, Jaclyn, was
a crystal enthusiast with a renowned collection from around the
world. Taryn remembered admiring this particular type of crystal,
and was sure Jaclyn said it came from Bolzano, Italy.

Meandering across the
landscape, she came to another breath-robbing view. A stalactitic
grotto lit with pockets of white-green glowing moss. The water
trickling through the roof deposited limestone, creating over the
years, stalactites. The water dripping from these formed
corresponding stalagmites on the floor. From her vantage point, the
scene resembled monstrous teeth, and she decided not to chance
walking through the grotto in her bare feet.

Circumventing the grotto,
she happened along another path, wider than the one near her
chamber and with a steeper descent. Nearly two hundred paces later,
she came to another plateau and spied a golden glow at the end of a
long, narrow tunnel. She ran toward it, her heart racing with
anticipation. The light appeared to be that of natural sunlight,
giving her the hope she had found an exit. But that hope was dashed
when she burst into another massive, high-vaulted room.

Indeed, the light had the
feel and look of natural sunlight, but the beams angled down from
rock far above. She squinted hard to see the objects emitting the
rays, but all she could make out was something lurking high in the
shadows.

Something large and
winged.

Something her mind couldn't
accept.

Sunlight can't pass through
rock, and yet....

A chill smacked her spine
and she spun on a heel to face the direction she'd come. A fiery
liquid replaced the blood in her veins, and the muscles in her legs
seemed to turn to gelatin. It was all she could do to stand. While
he advanced into the chamber, she clutched the frond against her
like a temple virgin confronting a demon god.

He was not a pretty sight.
She hadn't thought he could look more unkempt or surly, but he did,
as if he had been dragged through oil and tar pits on his way to
hurricane-force winds. His shoulders were slumped, not in despair
but distinctly that of a Neanderthal predator. And his body odor
was an entity unto itself.

"Where are my clothes?" she
said, her authoritative tone surprising her.

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

"Did you eat them?" she
asked heatedly. "I know you sure as hell didn't use them for wash
rags!"

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

"There are laws against
walking sewers!" she spat, her anger dousing any remnant of fear.
"Laws of nature!"

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

Forcing a breath through her
constricted throat, Taryn thrust back her shoulders.

Breathe. That's
it...breathe.

"I'm not afraid of you!" she
shouted. "I don't know how we survived that fall, but I do know I'm
not afraid of you!"

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

Taryn moistened her lower
lip with the tip of her tongue. "You're pathetic," she charged,
frustration quivering through her. "You're not a man. You're a
festering zit on the face of mankind!"

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

"I'm tired of playing this
game, mister. I want my clothes, and I want out of this
whatever-the-hell you call this place!" Keeping one arm braced
across the concealing frond, she jabbed an index finger in his
direction. "You don't know me, mister. I don't cower to
intimidation, and I certainly don't respond well to being cornered.
Your big hands and cliff-sized shoulders aren't going to stop me
from doing you bodily harm. And you know what?" She offered a
saccharin smile. "You won't even know what hit you until it's too
late. I'm that good—or that bad, depending on your point of
reference."

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

Anger raged behind Taryn's
breast. "Fine. Why don't we just get this showdown over with, huh?
You come to me, and I'll demonstrate what the fastest knee in the
States can do for you." She gestured for him to come forward.
"C'mon, you hairy abomination. Come to mama."

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

"I want my clothes," she
said with surprising calm, "and I want my freedom. I'm not opposed
to stomping over you to get either." She dropped the frond and said
seductively, "Come and not get what you think, big guy."

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

Taryn was dumbstruck. With
the exception of Lachlan Baird, no man had ever resisted her body,
especially when she delivered an open invitation as she was
now.

"Are you brain
dead?"

His gaze remained fixed on
her eyes.

"You sonofabitch!" she
hissed, retrieved the frond and held it against her. Heat stung her
cheeks as she glared into his unemotional stare. "Of course you
don't have a sex drive! It probably rotted away beneath that filth
you wear!" She sucked in another breath and forced herself to calm.
"I want my clothes. Do you hear me? I want my clothes! I'll find my
own way out of this hellhole, but I'm not going anywhere without my
things! Do you hear me?"

"I'm no' deaf," he said in a
thick Scottish accent, his deep voice rumbling. "And I'll no' have
ye despair the womb wha' brought me life."

It was several seconds
before Taryn's shock permitted her to speak. "All this
time...."

"The ither has your clothes.
Vent yer spleen on him."

"There's someone else down
here?" she asked shrilly.

The stranger turned and
brusquely walked away. Taryn dashed after him, dogging his
wake.

"Who is he? Can he let me
out of here? Does he have my clothes? Where's my knapsack? Where
can I find hi—"

She braked and swallowed her
last question when he swiftly bolted around and faced her. His
livid countenance swam before her eyes, and she backed away two
paces.

"Gawd, womon, have ye no
respect for a mon's sanity?"

"What?" she
gasped.

"Aye, I've understood yer
every word, and aye I chose no' to waste ma breath talkin' to ye!
But I warn ye fair now, womon, I've no' wanted to silence yer foul
mouth mair'n I do now! Take heed and crawl off to yer room, lest I
decide to vent ma spleen on ye!"

Again, he stormed off. This
time, Taryn hesitated before following.

"Why are you holding me
prisoner?" she cried, furious.

Again, he stopped and turned
on her with a speed that reeled her senses. "We both be prisoners!"
Lifting a fist head-high, he shook it, and released a heated stream
of Gaelic to the darkness above. When his eyes lowered to her face,
she read such madness in them, she nearly ran, but something
compelled her to hold her ground.

"Tell me," he said
scathingly, "wha' induces a womon to whore for
him?"

Taryn jerked back as if
struck. "Whoring? Who the hell do you think you are? And who is
this him? Look, you moron, I came in search of answers. Any whoring
is a figment of your delusional imagination!"

"Och, aye. Twas ma
imagination ye shamed yerself back there, in hopes o' tyin' ma
testicles in a wee knot, aye?"

He raked his gaze over her
trembling form as if she were no better than a bit of discarded
meat. "Ye no' only be a foreigner but no mair a seductress than a
bloody rock. Spare me yer indignation and yer—"

Her fist swung out. By the
way he reeled back, both pain and surprise had caught him unawares.
Pain sliced through Taryn's hand, and she worked the fingers as she
cautiously stepped back. Straightening, he first looked wary. Then,
a mask of rage slid over his features.

Taryn had no idea where she
was running to, only that she was putting as much distance between
herself and the barbarian as she could. Infuriating a madman was
not one of her smarter moves, but she hadn't realized that she was
going to strike him until it was too late.

Late as
in...contact.

The hand throbbed, and the
soles of her feet were tender from pounding rock and
dirt.

She heard a snorting sound
behind her. He was chasing her, probably with the intent of
finishing what the fall should have and didn't. Blueness vied for
her attention. Ahead a short distance was a large quartz pool at
the base of a wall. Without hesitation, she dove in. The water was
cool but tolerable. The frond long forgotten, she surfaced and
found the barbarian standing at the edge, his hands on his hips and
his eyes glaring daggers at her.

"Come ou' o'
there!"

Taryn swam to the wall and
braced her back to it, paddling her legs to keep afloat. A good
seventeen feet separated them. It was enough. The seemingly
bottomless pool was her only sanctuary.

"I demand ye to come
ou'!"

"Come in and get me," she
said merrily, although her pulse raced. "Ah, but you won't, will
you? By the looks and smell of you, you haven't touched water in
God knows how long."

Amidst his beard and
mustache, one corner of his mouth turned up. A chill of
apprehension coursed through her as he lowered himself to a sitting
position.

"Dinna ye know?" he laughed
low. "I have all the time in the world. Ask
him?"

"Who is he?"

"The
him?"
The barbarian lifted his
shoulders in a mocking show of indifference. "Who's to say. No' ye.
Certainly no' me."

"I liked it better when you
didn't talk!" Taryn snapped.

He stroked his beard. "No
doubt. I told ye to get away. Fegs, I told ye I wanted no
whore."

"I'm not a
whore!"

"Wha' are ye then?" he
snarled. "Ye and the ithers are sport for
him.
He uses ye all to punish
me!"

"You're insane," Taryn
murmured.

"Aye, and wi' bloody good
reason." He gestured to the water between them. "Come ou'. I'm in
no mood for anymair o' yer games."

"This isn't a
game!"

Black eyebrows lifted in
cynical amusement. "Ye're a player nonetheless. He'll no' let ye
leave till I've had ye and he believes yer leavin' will pain
me."

"What are you talking
about?"

"Ye know bloody
weel."

"If I did I wouldn't be
asking! Look, I came to the standing stones in search of
answers!"

"Wha' kind o'
answers?"

"That's none of your
business."

His nostrils flared, and his
eyebrows drew down, hooding his eyes. "Suit yersel. But the only
way I'll get ye ou' o' ma way is to bed ye proper, then pretend I
care mair'n a wit abou' ye. I canna talk plainer than
tha'."

"Go to hell," she
breathed.

"Am here," he said wryly.
"Now, come. Yer presence here offends me. As soon as we be done
doin' wha' he wants o' us, the sooner ye return above."

"If I...have sex with
you....I'm set free?"

He nodded
impatiently.

"We have a problem,
though."

"Only one?" he said
mockingly. "Tell me."

"I'd rather suck slug slime
than let you touch me!"

"Definitely a big
problem."

"Take a bath!"

"Tis against ma
principles."

"Water is against your
principles?" she asked, astounded.

"Aye."

"Then I guess we'll see who
wins out."

"Meanin'?"

"Offending you has just
become my first priority."

"Ye do offend
me."

"Jerk."

To her dismay, he stretched
out alongside the pool, his arms pillowed beneath his head, his
ankles crossed. "Ye canna stay in there forever."

"Maybe you'll suffocate on
your own stench!"

His head turned and his gaze
found hers. "Maybe ye will. I'm used to it."

He straightened his head and
closed his eyes. "I can be a patient mon when need be."

Taryn eased across half the
pool then sliced a hand along the surface, forming a wave to
cascade on him. No sooner did the water touch him, he was on his
feet, sputtering and glowering at her. She laughed, but it soon
died when a wave of dense odor crashed down on her.

"My...God! A wet dead dog
smells better than you!"

He flashed white teeth in a
parody of a smile. "Ye will pay for gettin' me wet."

"I am paying already," she
grumbled. "Go away!"

He bowed at the waist,
straightened, and offered a mock salute. "As ye wish," he said, and
headed back in the direction he'd come.