To Ride A Púca (20 page)

It was hard to tell through the constant downpour and the strands of hair plastered to her face, but Neala was pretty sure they had strayed from the path. A weight settled on her chest and around her throat. She pulled at the collar of her tunic so she could breathe easier but it didn’t help, it was nowhere near her throat. What restricted her airflow wasn’t her clothing; it was panic. She slowed Dubh to a walk so she could get a better look around.

In the dark and unrelenting rain all the muted energy signatures of the plants and trees looked the same. She was lost. How long had she been riding? She couldn’t remember. The night was blurring together. It could be any time between half a candlemark or a little over since she’d set out. That meant she could be in a very dangerous territory depending on which wrong turn she’d taken. Her heart pounded faster.

Leaving home and venturing into a storm at a time like this had been a huge mistake. Admitting that to herself now only mixed guilt in with her growing fear. Power started escaping her skin as a bluish-yellow mist, causing her arms to glow. She was losing her ability to control it. That could be disastrous.

When she had first come into her power as a child she had very little control over it. The power had built until she couldn’t contain it and then exploded from her very skin. It had destroyed her clothing and hurt anyone within a few feet of her. She couldn’t risk that happening now.

She slid from Dubh’s back and started to lead him, leaving as much space between them as she could. It wasn’t easy. The stallion was being protective and wanted to walk at her shoulder. She was also shaking so badly—both on the inside and outside—that it was hard to walk.

“Neala?” Bren’s voice came out of the darkness from up ahead.

A sob tore from her and her legs nearly gave out. In a few more steps she saw him. He was like a glowing green and red beacon of safety and hope. The tears and rain made it impossible to make out his face but she didn’t need to. She’d recognize his energy anywhere. Every ounce of her being wanted to run to him but she couldn’t, her legs were too weak with relief. He ran to her, catching her right before she collapsed.

An eternity seemed to pass as they stood in the pouring rain clinging to one another. Her entire world had shifted and it felt like he was the only solid thing left in it, the only thing that made sense, besides Dubh of course. She didn’t want to let go, ever.

“Come on, ye’ve got to get out of the weather,” he said.

Nodding, she snuggled against him as he wrapped his cloak around them both. With Dubh on their heels, they walked deeper into the forest. Neala had no idea where they were or where they were going but that was all right, Bren did.

A short trek through the trees brought them to a rocky hillside that loomed like a dark smudge on the horizon. Rock had energy but it was muted and didn’t glow like the energy of living things. Neala could see dark openings in the hillside. They were caves. Bren led her to the mouth of a cave that was partially hidden by a fern-covered mound of Earth and long vines.

It was massive inside, so much so that Dubh had no problem walking in. The floor was relatively flat and sloped in such a way that the rain stayed out. The roof stretched up into the darkness so that Neala couldn’t tell how high it was. In the middle of the big room a circle of stones held a bit of ash and burned wood. The scent of pine drew Neala’s gaze to a stack of wood along the wall. Moss growing on a few of the pieces on the bottom of the pile put off a soft green glow.

“How did ye find this place?” she asked, marveling at the way her voice echoed.

She led Dubh over to the wall opposite the wood and dropped his reins, telling him to stay. His eyes started to slide closed almost immediately.

“I’ve been comin’ here since I was a kid. It’s kind of me secret place,” Bren said.

There wasn’t enough light to see his expression by, but from the sound of his voice Neala guessed he was smiling. For some reason that brought her so much relief that she had to fight back more tears. She realized that deep down part of her hadn’t expected to see him again.

“Ye’re shakin’ so bad. Here, sit down. I’ll build a fire.”

He led her to a rock next to the fire pit and helped her sit. It surprised her how hard it was to bend her legs. She really was shaking a lot. The cold was starting to seep into her bones to the point where it felt like she’d never be warm again. She curled up as small as she could and wrapped her arms around her knees. Bren soon had a fire crackling at her feet.

“Ye should get out of those wet clothes, ye’ll warm up faster,” he said.

“Why Brendan O’Donovan, are ye tryin’ to get me naked?” she asked, the teasing effect ruined by her chattering teeth.

“
Tá
. I am,” he said with a grin.

She laughed and had to force herself to stop because it felt like she was on the verge of hysteria. “All right, but turn around.”

One corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and more than firelight twinkled in his eyes. He turned and kept turning until he was facing her again. She laughed and threw a shoe at him.

“All right, all right,” he said and turned his back.

Shaking her head, Neala stripped down to her undergarments. Her hands trembled so much it was hard to ring her clothes out. Back still turned, Bren removed his hooded cloak and started to pull his tunic off.

“What do ye think ye’re doing?” Neala asked, voice rising in pitch. She hoped Bren would try anything or expect anything, but after the day she’d had she wasn’t so sure.

The gentle sound of his laughter mingled with the snaps and pops of the fire. “No worries. I wouldn’t dream of spoilin’ ye unless ye wanted me to,” he said in a voice so low she had trouble hearing it.

A flush spread through her that took the chill off faster than the fire ever could, unfortunately it didn’t last. While Neala wasn’t sure she was ready to be with a boy that way, she actually had dreamt of Bren spoiling her. It was hard not to. With that incredible body, sweet demeanor, and creative spirit, she had no doubt he’d be a fabulous lover. Her eyes traced the muscles of his back while her hands ached to do the same. He handed his tunic to her without turning and her fingers lingered upon his. Then she realized she hadn’t responded.

“I know ye wouldn’t,” she said softly as she put the tunic on.

It was still warm from his body and that warmth seeped into her and took the edge off the cold. The sleeves reached her elbows and the hem reached halfway to her knees. Despite the warm, dry tunic though, she couldn’t stop shaking. She slid to the ground in front of the rock to be closer to the growing fire. Wrapping her arms around her knees again, she buried her face in the cloth and breathed deep of Bren’s wonderful scent.

A pang of disappointment slowed her heart as he put the cloak back on. The view had been nice. After placing a few more logs on the growing fire, he sat down behind her. He put his legs to either side of her and wrapped the cloak around them both. Leaning back against his bare chest was like backing up to a hot stove. A relieved sigh slid from her as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Somethin’ happened didn’t it?” he asked after a moment of silence.

A shiver danced through her and she snuggled closer to him. He must have seen it in her eyes. They undoubtedly looked as haunted as she felt. “
Tá
,” she admitted as she stared at the flames, remembering the Dane boy.

“Tell me,” he said, making it sound like a question.

“The Danes came to me home. They brought a wounded lad and made me ma heal him. He was so bad off it’s going to take her a few days to heal him completely so they left him with us. They said they’d be back in a week and if he isn’t healed they’ll kill me da and take me ma and me as slaves,” she said. It surprised her that her voice didn’t break. Her emotions felt as frozen as her body.

Bren’s arms tightened around her and he made a sound low in his throat like a growl. “Did they hurt ye or yer family?” he asked.

“
Níl
. They didn’t even take anythin’. They just dropped the lad off and left,” she said.

Bren relaxed a little and let out a long breath. “Is he dangerous, this lad?”

Neala didn’t answer right away. She thought about the boy’s reluctance, his bruises, and the remorse in his bright blue eyes. A pang of sympathy slid beneath her skin like a sliver. “
Tá
, he is,” she said. She didn’t want to feel bad for the monsters that were responsible for her brother’s death. That was almost worse than fearing them.

“Then I’ll go back with ye,” he said.

Her blood pounded through her veins, heating her in a way that wasn’t pleasant. After all he’d taught her, he still didn’t think she could defend herself. She turned to look up at him. “Ye can’t leave yer ma unprotected. I can take care of meself. Ye made sure of that.”

The tender smile he gave her washed away her anger. The fierce protectiveness and pride in his eyes threatened to raise it back up. His fingers traced the line of her jaw and tilted her head up toward him. He leaned in and she closed her eyes. The press of his lips was gentle and perfect, just like she’d imagined it would be. His lips parted and their tongues touched. He tasted of cinnamon and honey. The sensations, the desire, the day she’d had, it was all too much. She pulled away.  

Neala reached up and touched his face. Her fingers found their way to his shoulder-length hair. The silky feel of it against her flesh raised bumps along her arms. His eyes closed and his head leaned back. The near euphoric look on his face reminded her of how he looked when he was contemplating. The restrained feel of his power made her wonder if that was what he was doing.

“Neala, why are ye holdin’ back?” he asked.

“I’m just not ready,” she said with a sigh.

With him she felt safe and that allowed her to drop her defenses. Dropping her defenses felt good. It felt like freedom. But it also scared her.

Bren swallowed hard and looked down at her. The desire that filled his eyes stirred something deep inside her. “I don’t want ye to hold back.” he said.

She pulled her hands into her lap and leaned away from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ye want to be with me? To share the bond with me?” he asked. The crease of his brow, the wide sad eyes, it made her feel terrible. This wonderful lad wanted her,
her
. What was she doing? But she couldn’t bring herself to answer.

Bren’s eyes fluttered, his long lashes practically brushing his cheeks, then he forcibly opened them and met her gaze. “Ye don’t have to be afraid, not of me.”

Part of her ached for him but she knew if they laid together tonight there was a chance she’d regret it in the morning. What if that was all he wanted and he moved on once he got it? She did not want to foul up such a good thing, especially when so few good things happened to her.

“We could die in battle any day now ye know,” he whispered.

He stroked her hair, her neck, and started to lean in close. Bumps rose along her skin, pulling her power up with them which heightened the pleasant sensation. His hot lips branded her neck, moving slowly up it toward her jaw. Her mind and body warred with one another. This wasn’t right, she wasn’t ready. She tried to say as much but the words refused to cross her lips. Bren’s hands encircled her waist, pulling her against him.

A piercing squeal broke the stillness of the cave. The sound reverberated off the walls, making Neala pull away from Bren and cover her ears with her hands. Firelight danced across Dubh’s shining coat as he reared, pawing at the air. His long black mane flipped about as he shook his head, his green eyes wide and wild. Ears pinned, lips pulled back from his teeth, he lunged forward and hit the ground running. He disappeared into the darkness, the curtain of rain swallowing his energy trail a moment later.

Neala shot to her feet. “Dubh!
Níl
!”

Bren’s hand clamped down onto her arm as she reached the cave entrance, yanking her to a stop. “Ye can’t go out there, Neala. Ye’re barely wearin’ a stitch.”

She spun on him and glared through her long brown hair. “I can’t just leave him out there. Tis pourin’ and near freezin’.”

His hands moved to her shoulders, turning her to face him. “He’ll be all right. He’s a horse after all. They’re built for this weather.”

She shook her head. “He’d never run off like that without a reason. Tis not like him.”

Not caring that she wore only a tunic, she tore from Bren and ran, pushing power into her legs to make herself faster.

“Neala wait!”

For a moment she was blinded by the shimmering raindrops that choked the air, but she didn’t stop. The slight trace of Dubh’s dark green energy led her to the east. Wet, muddy earth splashed beneath her feet, quickly giving way to a soft cushion of grass. Her eyes scanned the night as she ran. In only a few steps the energy trail disappeared. It was impossible to see anything in the storm, especially a horse as black as the night itself. The weight of despair settled onto her chest.

What if he got hurt? He couldn’t see any better than she could and he was a horse. Despite their big, strong appearance, they were fragile things. One misstep in the mud, and he could break a leg, or worse, his neck.

Footsteps splashed on the wet earth not far behind her. Not about to let Bren stop her, she picked up her pace.

“Neala, wait!” From the sound of his voice, he was right behind her.

Unable to see where she was going, she struck out blindly in the direction she thought Dubh’s trail had been leading. Mud oozed up through her toes and suddenly she was sliding. Surely the ground had to be coming up to meet her but she couldn’t see it. There was an impossibly long moment of vertigo that seized her and she couldn’t tell which way was up or down. Then arms wrapped around her and righted her, putting the ground back beneath her feet where it belonged.

“Are ye daft woman? Running out into a storm like that?”

She thrust her butt back into Bren and threw her arms out before her, breaking his hold on her. Moving swiftly away, she spun and faced him, taking a defensive stance.