Page 10 of Shaw

The ghastly humor left Fiacail’s face, which looked half-healed now. She brushed a hand over the lengthening strands of her singed-edged hair, and then glanced around at the other Cait Sith on deck. They cowered whenever her gaze caught theirs.

“I’m no’ as I was,” Fiacail admitted. “The merrow put the shark’s spirit inside me. ’Tis what makes me so pitiless, I reckon.”

Even the betrayal by Dearg, whom Derdrui had ordered to slay their former leader, did not seem as ugly or horrific as what more had been done to Fia.

“Return with me and see our sovereign,” Speal urged. “Beg her forgiveness and aid. Surely she may undo the merrow’s meddling.”

“Derdrui save the shifter she ordered executed most cruelly? Och, ever you’ve such faith in monsters.” Playfully her sister tousled her hair. “’Tisnae the last you’ll see of me, my dear one. I hope ’tisnae the last I see of you.”

Fiacail went to the railing, climbing up onto it before she leapt into the water, her body forming a graceful arc before she disappeared into the waves.

Chapter Three

During her first week at Dun Ard, Julianne’s brain acted like a super-charged bouncy ball while she tried to figure out how she had traveled through time to land in twelfth-century Scotland. Almost everything confused her, and because she usually didn’t think so much she kept giving herself headaches. She’d never been comfortable around strangers because of her limits, and these people weren’t even Americans. Dun Ard was so huge she kept getting lost and had to ask the guards for directions, which was embarrassing. Living in a castle with fireplaces burning all the time, eating strange foods served in huge portions, and being watched by everyone else was definitely weird.

Just relax and watch, Eva would have told her. You’ll catch on, you always do.

Julianne had noticed that the very buff clan dudes who walked around carrying swords and spears liked looking rather than talking to her. The less buff male servants did the same, nodding their heads at her, too. All of them gave her head-to-toe once overs every time they saw her, like she might have hidden an axe or two under her borrowed clothes. The maids who bobbed up and down like buoys proved to be just as judgey as girls in her time. They all gave her these weird smiles, as if they saw something she hadn’t noticed yet, like a skirt hem caught in the back of her panties, or a long piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe.

Why did I have to be the one on duty that day? Melanie would have so loved this clan stuff. Her co-worker had stanned that Scottish time-travel show from the first episode.

After she’d looked around Dun Ard, Julianne thought it was possible she’d travelled through time. The place reeked of uber olden times. Plus there were no electrical outlets, light switches or computers, not even hidden behind or inside stuff. Once she had talked with Valerie and Lark about their trips, and heard how their near-drowning situations had matched her own, then everything she’d been told could have been the truth. Caladh seemed pretty real, too. No one could have pulled off a prank island, not even for one of those depressing SF desert movies Mitch had always liked.

At least there aren’t any ginormous sandworms in this place.

Julianne suspected the people at Dun Ard were holding out on her about some stuff, however. When she asked why there were no kids younger than teens at the castle, Valerie said they lived elsewhere and then started talking about the gardens. The maids only giggled when Julianne mentioned she’d like to meet some of the older MacMar. When she asked Lark why all the clansmen appeared to be the same age, the seamstress mumbled something about good genes. They seemed to be keeping as much from her as they were telling her, and she couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t like she could call the Napa Valley Register for a tell-all.

Aside from her boobs, she had two other ongoing problems: the touchy thing, and Shaw.

Julianne had discovered the first when she’d accidentally bumped into one of the guards. A maid who had been cleaning out the fireplace in her chamber had come out to hand the ash bucket to one of the guards just as Julianne was coming in. She stepped aside to avoid walking into the maid, and her elbow brushed the other guard’s arm. He yelped and skittered away, clutching his arm as if she’d jabbed him.

“You’ve the fairy’s smite, Mistress,” the maid said before hurrying down the passage so fast she left a trail of ash dust in her wake.

“It’s probably static electricity,” Valerie told her later when she stopped by the guest chamber to talk to her about the incident. “Our vassals generally blame whatever they don’t understand on fairies. Anyway, let’s give it a try.” She held out her hand. “Go ahead, smite me.”

All Julianne did was tap her fingertip against the other woman’s palm, and a tiny spark jumped between her skin and Valerie’s, making them both flinch.

“Very strong contact buildup static,” the laird’s wife said, frowning. “A bit like getting zapped by household current. Take hold of my hand, please.” When Julianne did she jumped a little again. “It’s just as strong the second time. Interesting that it doesn’t lose some potency.” Her brow furrowed, as if she were trying to work out something else.

She let go of Valerie. “Honestly, V, my boobs are bigger than my IQ. Also, they’ve been really weird, too. So, is what you said a good thing, or bad?”

“It’s a strange thing. The jolt you give someone should stop as soon as you touch someone, and then take some time to build up again, but in your case it’s constant.” She frowned. “What’s wrong with your breasts?”

“Every time Shaw comes near me they want to party with him.” At the other woman’s blank expression she added, “As in a sex tape type of party. The super freaky kind.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “That’s probably because you’re attracted to Shaw.”

“Do your boobs do that when the laird walks by you?” Julianne asked, and then sighed as Valerie dissolved into helpless laughter. “Come on, it wasn’t that funny.”

“I’m sorry, really I am,” the other woman said, wiping her eyes. “Sometimes the things you say… Anyway, your physical reaction could also be related to your trip back in time, the trouble you’re having with static, or even your new transporter ability to jump locations.”

“That’s it. I couldn’t remember the name…ah, never mind.” Julianne sighed. “Anyway, I can handle my breasts turning into pompoms for my man Shaw every five secs, I guess. Isn’t there some way to stop jumping around and get rid of the shock and awe thing?”

“If Joana’s ring is causing these side effects, then it may be difficult. All three of us tried to remove the ring when we first came here, with no luck,” the laird’s wife said, looking sympathetic now. “My theory is that it remains in place until we serve a specific purpose. For example, I discovered the true reason why Connal’s first wife committed suicide. Lark exposed the murderer who had killed two of Fletcher’s former lovers. Caroline—you haven’t met her yet—helped Nyall deal with the serious emotional damage inflicted on him during childhood.”

“So I’m supposed to help as well as guard Shaw?” Julianne asked, wondering if she also had to consider him her ‘guy.’ “V, I usually don’t get picked for stuff like that.”

“The magic and motives of the Fae are very hard to understand,” Valerie admitted. “All I can do is look at myself and the other two women the ring brought to Caladh. We all seem to match our men in strange ways. My first husband killed himself, so I struggled with terrible guilt, just as Connal did over his first wife’s suicide. Like our seneschal, Lark has always believed she was jinxed with bad luck that takes away the people she loves. Caroline and Nyall both had abandonment issues, and never allowed anyone to get close to them. We’ve all supported each other and together overcome a lot of trauma.”