Page 54 of The Last Kelpie

Áedán burst out laughing, stood up, and held a hand down to me. “Come on. Let's get some sleep. It's going to be a long drive tomorrow.”

“Sleep, eh?” I took his hand and got to my feet.

He smirked. “Well, maybe not right away.”

Chapter Eighteen

We left the estate just after dawn the next morning, Áedán's car loaded with my satchel, a cooler of groceries from Mateo, and a box of books Agnes had insisted I take. They were from her personal collection, not the Archive. Áedán drove again, his hands steady on the wheel, his profile sharp against the morning light. I watched the landscape change as we moved north—rolling English countryside giving way to wilder terrain. Mountains rose like ancient sentinels, and the sky seemed to stretch higher.

We stopped once for petrol and lunch. At the restaurant, just a little sandwich shop, we ate and talked about our pasts. I told Áedán about being raised by my grandmother, and he told me stories about his clan.

I gathered up my courage and asked if he'd ever been in love. When his expression tightened, I hurried to say he didn't have to answer. He nodded and changed the subject. I felt like an idiot. Of course he'd been in love before. He had lived for over six hundred years. If he had loved a human, they'd be long dead, and if he had loved a kelpie, they would have faded. Either way, anyone he had loved was gone.

By the time we reached Luss, the sun was low over the loch, turning the water to hammered gold. I had Áedán stop by my rental cottage so I could pick up my things. I still hadn't looked through the books I'd bought. Then we went to Áedán's cottage.

Áedán backed the car into his shed and sat for a moment, hands still on the wheel, staring at his home. “I need to be in the water. I've been away too long. The loch will be worried.”

I didn't question it. “Go. I'll unpack and make some tea.”

He turned to look at me, his expression both soft and admiring. Then he leaned over and kissed me. “I'll try not to be too long.”

“Take your time. I'll unpack the car and get started on those books Agnes lent me.”

“All right.” He handed me his keys.

Áedán got out of the car and went to the loch without looking back. I watched him strip off his shirt as he went, then shed his jeans on the dock. Naked, he dove into the loch and disappeared beneath the surface. Instead of feeling abandoned, as I might have with anyone else, I was happy that he trusted me alone in his home and didn't feel the need to babysit me.

I took the groceries in first, my satchel slung over my shoulder. Inside, the cottage smelled like Áedán, and I breathed in deeply. I felt more at home there than I had at the Velasca Estate. After bringing the rest of our things inside, I set my laptop on the kitchen table, set the box of books beside it, unpacked the books I'd bought in Luss, and made a fire. After setting a kettle of water over the fire, I settled at the table. Through the window, I could see the glassy water of the loch. There was no sign of the creature swimming beneath its surface.

I looked through a few of Agnes's books, but the stories were all accurate. So I moved on to the modern books I'd bought in Luss. At first, I just documented the titles, changes to the myth, and publication dates of each book in my notebook. Then I returned to Agnes's books and searched for them online. I found most of them, and among them, those that had been published in or after 1940 had been changed.

But as the hours passed and the light outside shifted from gold to amber to deep blue, I started noticing something else. The changes before 1983 were inconsistent. But after that, the same fabricated details appeared across all the kelpie books. No matter how unknown the book was, where it was published, or when, there was no deviation. The same descriptions of kelpies as bloodthirsty monsters incapable of kindness. The same warnings about their insatiable hunger for human flesh. The same emphasis on their deceptive beauty hiding murderous intent. The story had settled into its new version.

I was so absorbed in my discovery that I didn't hear Áedán return, didn't know he was back until his hand touched my shoulder.

I jumped. “Jesus Christ!”

“Sorry.” Áedán was dry but naked, his clothes in his arms, and a big grin on his face. “I just wanted to let you know I was back.”

“Do you want some tea? I put the kettle over the fire.” I glanced out the window. It was dark outside, and I hadn't noticed.

“Sure. I'm going to change my clothes.” He headed to the bedroom.

I got up and poured some hot water into a mug. Áedán preferred loose-leaf tea, so I scooped some into a metal tea ball and set in the mug to steep. While I was at it, I made a cup for myself and then resumed my seat.

Áedán returned wearing a pair of soft flannel pants and nothing else. He pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. “Thank you for this.” He picked up his mug and took a sip. Then he leaned against my shoulder to look at the screen. “What did you find?”

“I think I've found the date when the alterations settled in the new, monstrous version of your story, but I'm not sure yet.” I scrolled through another document. “I need to look through a few more books first.”

Áedán's hand moved to my hair, fingers combing through it absently. The gesture was so casual and intimate, it made my chest ache. His hand moved to my back before finally settling on my shoulder where his thumb traced small circles against my collarbone.

I tried to focus on the research and failed. “I'm sorry, I just need a little more time with this.”

“Humans always think they have time.” Áedán's hand fell away.

I turned to look at him. “Time for what?”

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Everything.”