Time Everlastin' Book 5 (11 page)

When he disappeared into one
of the tunnels, Taryn dog-paddled to the edge and pulled herself up
onto the rocks.

She swiped a palm down her
face, muttering, "Great. Now what do I do?"

A soft, melodic hum drifted
from one of the tunnels. For all she knew, the barbarian could have
back-tracked and was waiting to snare her. She had no idea where
she was, nor how to find her knapsack. This subterranean nightmare
could take years to search. Once she had the gun, the stranger
would show her the way out, or she would start shooting off his
toes. The latter would slow his pursuit.

As she made her way through
one tunnel after another, the humming now a strong beacon guiding
her, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she was as naked as
the day she was born. She'd always thought herself
uninhibited.

Until now.

It was most disconcerting
not to hide behind the cover of clothing.

Two men trapped down here,
and one wanted to watch the other in the act?

Kinky.

Not her kind of kinky,
either.

A warm golden glow routed
her to a specific cave where the humming was most prevalent.
Although liquid-sounding, the melody was as sweet as if crooned
from the throat of a nightingale. She cautiously crossed the
threshold. The air was much cooler in this chamber, but this was
not the cause of her intense shivering. It was the incredible
beauty of the room that left her breathless and quaking in
awe.

Seemingly endless quartz and
crystal columns rose into a dark awning speckled with dully glowing
purple, green, gold, blue and red stars, the pattern distinctly
that of a constellation. Not one she could identify, although it
was vaguely familiar. The walls were chiseled scenes of bygone
centuries. A long altar stood before a flat, standing stone, its
facade depicting runes. Various marble statues of standing,
crouching and sitting gargoyles were scattered about, several
around a massive pool illuminated with golden light.

As she walked further into
the cavern, she realized that the humming had stopped. Her arms
were crossed against her breasts, her hands rubbing the
goose-fleshed skin to elicit some warmth.

"Incredible," she breathed,
her eyes unable to take in everything quickly enough to satisfy
her.

By the flat, standing rune
slab of the altar, a greenish mist arose from the ground. It coiled
and pampered the offering site, caressing in such a manner that
Taryn likened the phenomenon to human hands displaying reverence to
something sacred.

Taryn walked to one of the
columns by the altar. The stone was also intricately chiseled with
countless gargoyle faces and runes. She hesitantly touched one of
the visages and jumped back when a tingling sensation swept through
her fingers, across her hand and up her arm. When it reached her
breast, heat bled beneath the skin then swiftly
vanished.

The MacLachlan dirk popped
into her thoughts, startling her more than her experience with the
column. She clearly saw the infamous weapon on her mindscreen. It
lay innocuously hidden in the secret panel at the bottom of her
knapsack. Tiny winking starbursts were visible on the blade
although no light penetrated its temporary tomb.

Again she rubbed her arms
for warmth.

Why think of the dirk
now?

The face carvings on the
column appeared to shift. Was it her imagination or were they
watching her?

A thought made her expel a
breath of relief.

Of course! The dirk's handle
is carved with gargoyles, too.

Twice the damn thing had
killed Lachlan. Was the dirk cursed?

If not for me, Roan, I would
think you would come for the dirk.

An uncomfortable twinge
fluttered in her heart. She shrugged it off. Hoping for the cavalry
to come to her rescue was ludicrous. If there was a way out, she
would have to uncover it herself.

To avoid dwelling on her
predicament, she approached another wall carved with scenes of
winged creatures—gargoyles—erecting massive standing stones. She
blinked in bewilderment when the entirety of the work
registered.

The Callanish Standing
Stones.

The crown of her
prison.

Moving deeper into the room
to another scene, she studied it briefly before identifying it as
Stonehenge, this, too, depicting gargoyles at work.

"Gargoyles," she murmured,
walking on. "This can't be a coincidence."
Gargoyles on the handle of the dirk and on these columns and
walls. Did a race once worship these creatures?

Something moved in the outer
corner of her left eye. She cast the altar a furtive glance. The
green mist had become thicker, twisting into various ribbons as if
disturbed by shifting currents of air. Drawing in her shoulders,
she backed up. The ends of her wet hair tickled the upper curvature
of her buttocks. Her gaze remained riveted on the mist, trepidation
a nest of squiggling worms in her belly.

She bumped into something
solid and glanced over her shoulder to see a boulder at her back.
Warmth emanated from its surface and she cozied against it. For
several minutes, she allowed the back of her to bask in the heat
then turned to take the chill off her front.

A scream razored from her
throat, its harsh echo piercing. Another scream and another
followed as she backed toward the altar, her eyes painfully widened
in horror on an abomination her mind couldn't
categorize.

She couldn't make herself
stop screaming. Despite the increasing rawness of her throat, sound
poured from her like the shrill of a siren.

The creature eased from its
rock perch, erecting itself to its seven foot height. Veined wings
flexed. Taloned hands opened and closed at its sides. But the eyes
terrified her the most. Almost human. Bright green. Intelligent.
Perusing her as if she were but a rare insect under a
microscope.

Its flesh had the appearance
of dark grey rock, its frame muscular, powerful. The features were
harsh-planed. Broad nose. Wide-spread large eyes. Thick chiseled
lips. Large ears on a bald skull.

The scream refused to end,
rising another octave. The altar's edge pressed against the backs
of her thighs. Darkness closed in, tunneling her vision until an
isolated talon pressed to her mouth. The contact severed her
ability to make a sound. Somehow, her mind locked onto the fact the
creature's flesh was warm and soft. A gurgling hush doused her
immediate need to pass out. She clamped her mouth shut.

The talon
withdrew.

Taryn's eyes strained to pop
from their sockets as the creature lowered its massive head and
stared into her eyes. Through the gauzy layers of terror encasing
her brain, she read bewilderment on the monstrous face. It
straightened back, the hairless ridges above its eyes lifting as if
it were attempting to impart a question. She gave the only answer
she could, considering her frame of mind.

She screamed.

This time the sound was
hoarse with intermittent squeaks that would shame those of a
frightened mouse. The creature jiggled its head and released a
long-winded gurgle.

A burst of grating Gaelic
intruded. Again Taryn clamped her mouth shut. The creature spared a
peeved look at the barbarian then grimaced a grimace that rivaled
any she had ever seen. Its head turned to her. Broad nostrils
flared and gushed warm air against her face and neck.

The barbarian continued to
rail as he stood to the creature's left. Not once did he look at
her. Nonetheless, she crossed her arms against her breasts and
shrank within herself. The creature's nostrils pinched shut and it
winced, and she understood why.

What had been clean air in
the chamber, now reeked of the barbarian.

Obviously, the creature was
more offended by his stench than even she. With nostrils the size
of her fists, it was little wonder.

Moments ago, the sight of
the beast had nearly pushed her over the brink. Now, she
experienced a fey connection with it, an empathic link she couldn't
begin to fathom. She sensed the creature would not harm her and,
although she wasn't sure she could rely on her instincts at this
time, decided she was safer with it than the ranting
lunatic.

"Shut up!" she snapped,
glaring at her human imprisoner.

The barbarian's head jerked
around, his gaze made a quick sweep over her nakedness, and he
turned fully to face her.

"Now ye know the
him
o' it," he sneered,
jabbing a thumb at the creature.

Taryn blinked owlishly at
both. "What is it?"

"Dinna ye ken a bloody
gargoyle when ye see one?"

Blood pounded at her
temples. "Lower your voice," she rasped.

"Me?" he cried.
"Lower
ma
voice?
Was it no' yer caterwaulin' wha' shook the foundation o' this
world?"

"Back off!"

The demand was for him, but
it was the creature that stepped away.

A devilish gleam flashed in
the barbarian's eyes. He inched his face closer. "Or wha'? Ye will
lash me wi' yer cuttin' tongue till I crawl off wi' ma tail atween
ma legs?"

Taryn needed to draw air
into her lungs but refused to subject them to the fumes wafting off
him. She attempted to move to her right. His arm shot out and
blocked her. She stepped to her left. His other arm did likewise,
boxing her in.

"I dinna want ye here!" he
bellowed into her face.

"I dinna—
dammit
—don't want to be here,
either!"

She instinctually sucked in
a breath and gagged on the rancid air that hit her lungs. He
stepped back enough to allow her to bend over during a coughing
fit. When she eased up, she was stunned to see the creature gesture
harshly for the barbarian to back further away from her. No sooner
had he, the creature proffered a colorful blanket to
her.

It took Taryn a moment to
react. Snatching the blanket, she hastily wrapped it around her,
immediately relishing the soft, woven fabric and the warmth it
afforded her.

The creature looked at the
livid man and released a stream of gurgling sounds. When it
finished what struck her as a sound scolding, the barbarian's
hostility magnified.

"No, I'm warnin'
ye!"
he shouted at the
beast. "Send her back!"

Another gurgle. This one
guttural.

The barbarian lunged at the
creature. Mindless of her actions, Taryn jumped forward,
positioning herself between the two anomalies. By the time she
realized what she had done, a large fist was coming at her. Her
heart shot into her throat, blocking off an attempt to fill her
lungs with a gasp. The barbarian barely stopped short of reaching
her.

He staggered back several
paces as if shaken by the fact he had nearly struck her. This
surprised her, especially in light of the fact he hadn't been shy
about roughing her up earlier. Yet, self-loathing was clearly
visible in his eyes. Black eyes. Strangely familiar
eyes.

A tingling sensation crept
along her arms, making her all the more edgy.

"What's wrong with you?" she
cried in a clarion voice, the rawness gone. "Have you lost your
mind?"

"Aye," he growled. His gaze
shifted beyond her to the creature. The hatred Taryn read in his
eyes made her shiver, and confirmed her belief he was a madman. He
spat out several Gaelic words to the creature then another in a
hiss with a belligerent jab in Taryn's direction.

On impulse, she slapped the
raised hand aside. "This poor creature—"

"Puir craiture!" he boomed,
gaping at her as if she had donned an idiot cap. "Are ye defendin'
this monster?"

"He's just a dumb beast, for
God's sake!"

The gargoyle made an
indignant chuff behind her. Ignoring him, she said, "What's your
excuse?"

"Step aside," the barbarian
warned, his hands balling into fists.

Taryn walked to within arm's
reach of her antagonist. "Leave him alone."

A sneer formed on the man's
mouth. "Twould if I could."

"I suggest you give it a
serious try," she said with equal contempt. "I may not be known for
my charitable actions toward people, but I do draw the line at
animal abuse. Oh!" Taryn softened her tone. "I'm so sorry," she
said contritely to the barbarian. "I guess I made you the exception
to that rule."

"Och!"

Taryn released a cry of
alarm when he unexpectedly lifted her into his arms and swung her
upward to lie atop his palms, above his head. With the same
swiftness, he dashed across the room and tossed her into the golden
pool. She surfaced, sputtering mad, her legs straining to keep her
afloat against the weight of the now soaked blanket.

"Tell him to send ye back!"
he snarled, and stormed from the chamber.

He was no sooner out of
sight, the gargoyle came to the pool, scooped her out of the water
as if she weighed nothing at all, and placed her on her feet on the
rock floor.