Page 39 of Loched in Love

“Well, isn’t she precious,” Lachlan says.

After a long while on the road, Patricia, the cabbie from Cornwall, turns on the radio and the silence stretches as we pass through the British countryside.

The mountains are lush and full of wildflowers blowing with the wind as the sun rises in the sky.

“Och, look, Elena. The heather is beautiful this time of year,” he says.

“It really is beautiful.” I settle back into the leather seat of the van, but move to sit up when my gaze lands on a large stretch of water in the distance.

“Aye, we’re almost to the lake now,” Lachlan announces.

I note he seems more excited than anxious at the prospect of facing his ex, but last night he explained they hadn’t known each other long and she was actually the fated mate to someone else. I suppose I can understand since a great many people I know are friendly with their exes, but still. How should I know when dealing with what were supposed to be mythological creatures?

“I know you said you wanted me to drop you off, but there aren’t any buses coming again for a few hours you know,” Patricia says.

“Aye, but the old inn is still open nearby? We won’t mind the walk,” Lachlan replies.

“It’s still a fair bit, more than a walk I say,” she grumbles, her sharp gaze coasting over me from the rearview mirror.

“We’ll be fine. Not to worry.” Lachlan moves to sit up, and waves a hand toward the driver. A palpable energy seems to spread through the vehicle, and Patricia visibly relaxes in the driver seat, but still operates the van as if nothing happened.

“What did you just do?” I whisper, wondering what he just did to her.

“I just eased her mind a bit because she’s a stubborn old boot, and she’s right. The lake is remote, at least it was the last time I was here and after looking at the map today, it doesn’t look like much has changed to the area. I mean for us to stay a while, and don’t need her poking around to stay in case we change our minds about the hike.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied with the answer, I sit back in the taxi and watch as we get closer, scanning the area for anything that looks like it could lead to the Lady of the Lake’s house.

Oh my god. What the hell is my life?

The road turns into a small narrow lane, but the lake stretches in the distance. The lake looks calm and isn’t as large as what I expected it to be. It’s smaller than a lake near my parent’s back home, and I can easily make out the houses dotted a few football fields away.

Nothing about the English countryside looks out of the ordinary, and I definitely don’t see anything nearby that would even remotely resemble what I think of when I think of the Lady of the Lake.

I’ve watched my fair share of movies about King Arthur and the woman who gifted him the sword of legend, but of course never thought any of it could possibly be real.

There are over a handful of films alone where the enchantress is using magic of some sort, and to think we’re going to meet her, a legit sorceress I thought was a fairytale. I glance over at Lachlan, watching as the sun sends his beard glistening like it’s kissed by fire. My lips lift into a grin. I thought the Loch Ness Monster was only a myth too, and here I am mated to him.

The van comes to a stop. “Right you are. I hope you enjoy your walk, sir. The inn is just in that direction when you decide to take your leave,” the sweet old cabbie says.

We step out of the vehicle and the trunk pops open. Lachlan busies himself seeing to the luggage while I look around. I bring my coat around my ears to ward off the chill and cross my arms over my chest as I wait, noticing there’s nothing near the lake that even remotely looks like what Lachlan described.

“Take care,” Lachlan says, waving Patricia off as she speeds away, leaving us essentially deserted.

My stomach flips.

“Hey, can you tell me before you do more magic like you did in the car?” I ask him, realizing now why the cabbie had concerns when leaving us there stranded, with clearly miles to walk to the nearest anything. But she still did it. This magic of his must be potent, and I’d rather know when he’s about to use it.

“Of course. I promise I won’t unless necessary again if it bothers you. I just didn’t want her asking questions when I didn’t know how to answer,” he says, tugging the luggage upright.

“Okay. So what now? We’re not really stranded out here are we?” I gaze around wondering what exactly he can see that I can’t, because so far I don’t see anything like a cave, not even a hill to hide under.

“This way,” he says. He gathers up our luggage to pull behind him, and starts walking toward the lake, coffee cup of train water and key in hand.

I frown but follow behind, gravel crunching beneath my boots and the stray howl of the wind the only sound in the early morning.

I come to a stop beside him when he pauses at the lake’s edge, and glance up at him as he stares out across the water. When he looks down at me, his expression transforms before a small frown pulls at his brow.