Dancing on the Wind (53 page)

bird pass by overhead.

271

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

He wondered how the hound and his mate were doing and concentrated on

locating the young Reaper. His scruffy brow wrinkled as the hound’s essence came

forth in a location
An Fear Liath Mor
had not expected.

“
What do you there, hound
?” he sent in a gruff tone.

“Coim, you’re back!”

The big gray man dropped the box of cookies and focused his attention on the

words that had been sent and the emotion filling them.

“
What has happened?
”

Images instead of words came at the creature, bombarding him from all directions

as the tale unfolded like a quick newsreel. He rose slowly to his feet, a murderous look

of rage shifting over the furry features.

“The Martiya creature crippled you?”

More images of Fallon being treated, healing, and then a glimpse of the dead

woman who had been foisted off as Keenan was sent to
An Fear Liath Mor
and the air

around him shuddered.

“
Where is your mate now?
” he thundered.

From that great distance, a mental picture of the island taken from a satellite pass

settled in his mind. He grunted.

“Can you locate it?”

“Aye.”
The word was a bark of sound.

“Can you come get me here and take me there?”

Standing on the same stretch of ground where he and Keenan had met Coim a few

months earlier, Fallon stopped limping as he waited for the creature’s reply.

“Coim?” he asked. “Can you come get me and take me to the island?”

When there was no answer, Fallon looked at the Supervisor with worry flashing

over his handsome face. “He took Keenan. Surely he can take me.”

“But
where
did he take Keenan?” the Supervisor asked. “Do you know?”

Fallon shook his head. Keenan would not tell him where she’d gone or what she’d

seen there.

“Maybe it was to another dimension he took her. Maybe he can only travel from

mountain region to mountain region on his own.”

“Maybe,” Fallon agreed, chewing on his thumbnail. He tried calling the creature

again.

“You are an infuriating little pup.”

Both Fallon and the Supervisor jumped at the gruff voice.

“It takes a moment or two to journey here from the highlands,” Coim explained.

“Now do I take you both or just one of you?”

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Dancing on the Wind

“
Vainshtyr
,” the Supervisor said, bowing his head respectfully and granting the title

of Master to the creature. “It is my great honor to be in your presence.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Coim said, winking at Fallon. “That and a dollar might get you

a cup of coffee, Shadowlord.” He waved his huge paw of a hand in dismissal then

locked eyes with Fallon. “You are sure your mate is in no danger?”

“I don’t believe she is, but I want her back.”

“And you will
get
her back, hound,”
An Fear Liath Mor
stated.

“The Supervisor will stay here,” Fallon said. “His men are down the trail a ways in

case they are needed. Did you learn anything about Martiya?”

“That I did!” Coim said with a snort. “Evil thing. Primordially evil.” He fanned his

hand at a rock ledge to indicate the men were to sit then settled himself on the ground

with enough force to make it shake.

“How do we get rid of it?”

“You destroy the one to which she is bound and you destroy her,” Coim replied.

“For a better understanding of her, Shadowlord, you may not be surprised to learn she

is of the NightWind family of demons.”

“Ah,” the Supervisor said. “That makes sense.”

“What is a NightWind?” Fallon asked.

“It is an incubus brought forth through the female line of witches or sorceresses

who sign a blood pact with it,” the Supervisor explained. “In exchange for their

immortal souls—which they barter to the demon—they are given boons of wealth,

beauty and power far beyond anything they could achieve on their own. The

NightWind will be at the service of that family for as long as the line survives.”

“While a true NightWind is bound only to the female line of a family and is

primarily male in orientation, a Spirit of the Night is a succubus and is always female in

orientation,” Coim continued. “It is a much more dangerous creature—as are all

females of any species.”

“It left something behind inside me when it attacked,” Fallon said. “Something

evil.”

Coim nodded his big shaggy head. “Aye, she would have. It is a genetic marker so

she might find you wherever you go, keep track of you. One day she will return to

finish what she started.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Fallon said.

“He was also worried that what Martiya left inside him would erupt to hurt

Keenan,” the Supervisor put in.

“No, that would not happen,” Coim stated in a sure voice. “The evil is for Martiya.

It brings nothing with it.”

Fallon breathed a long sigh of relief. “Thank God for that.”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Coim smacked his big, rubbery lips together. “I have the taste of iron in my mouth

when I seek your mate, hound. She wears a collar made of it.”

“As do the others we’re trying to find, I’m sure,” the Supervisor said.

“True.”
An Fear Liath Mor
pushed up from the ground. “But that is good news.”

“How so?” the Supervisor asked, both he and Fallon getting to their feet.

“This Rom who controls Martiya can neither summon nor control her while he

wears a circle of iron about his neck. The iron blocks his powers. Hobbled in such a

way, he is as human as the next man. He will be no problem to you nor will the mother

of the hound’s mate or the medicine man.”

“I can use my hell hound abilities to walk right past any guards without notice, but

I can’t sneak Keenan back past without them seeing her,” Fallon said. “I…”

“In your condition, you can
limp
past them,” Coim scoffed, dragging his shaggy

gaze down Fallon’s injured leg. “Best you let me finish healing you, pup.”

“I was hoping you would,” Fallon said, relieved. It would be great not to feel pain

every waking moment of his life.

Towering over the Reaper, Coim laid his huge paws on the young man’s body,

curled the long talons over Fallon’s shoulders, let his head fall back, closed his crimson

eyes and let power flow from his body into Fallon’s. Around them both, a faint yellow

aura shimmered for a few moments then faded. When the light was completely gone,

Coim removed his paws.

“There. All better, little pup,” the creature said with a lopsided grin.

Fallon had felt the energy drilling through his leg. It hadn’t been an unpleasant

sensation, rather a strange one, but he knew even before he lifted his foot and stomped

it to the ground, his leg was mended—better than it had ever been.

“Thank you,
Vainshtyr
,” Fallon said.

Coim shrugged carelessly. “It was nothing, a mere parlor trick I learned at my

mother’s hairy knee.” He rubbed his large paws together. “Now let us go and fetch that

comely wench of yours! I will provide a distraction for you so you may bring your mate

home.”

One moment Fallon was nodding his eager agreement, the next his shoulder was

clamped in a viselike grip and he was flying through the air like a missile by the scruff

of his neck. It was a giddy awareness that made him squeeze his eyes tightly closed to

keep from passing out as land passed by at a blur of speed.

“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,” he heard Coim singing off key, “life is butter

dreams.”

“But a dream,” Fallon mumbled, swallowing convulsively to keep the vertigo from

making him spew.

Coim chuckled and then banked so steeply Fallon thought he would go

cartwheeling out of the creature’s grip, but then his feet touched steady, rocky land and

he wedged open one unenthusiastic eye to see where he was.

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Dancing on the Wind

“Ocean!” Coim said, breathing in deeply. “Clean mountain air and pungent ocean!

What more can a man want, eh, pup?”

“The world to stop revolving around him,” Fallon whispered, putting his hands to

his spinning head.

“Piss-poor traveler,” Coim growled, letting go of his reluctant passenger. “Won’t

take you with me next time I go to your homeworld.”

Fallon blinked and turned his head toward the creature. “My homeworld?”

“Where Reapers were hatched, pup,” Coim said with a grin then sniffed the air. He

sniffed again. “Human trash headed this way. Two, maybe three miles down the slope.

Males, unwashed, carrying guns that have been recently oiled.” He narrowed his gaze.

“Want me to get rid of them?”

“Yes,” Fallon said.

“An easy thing to do,” Coim said, and clenched his massive paws.

It was a strange vibration that was being given off by
An Fear Liath Mor
. More a

rippling of air than anything else, but it made Fallon acutely uncomfortable. He knew

from experience the psychological fear the creature could instill in the unwary travelers

he wished to keep at bay. In his mind’s eye he saw the objects of Coim’s efforts

stopping, going wide-eyed and then hightailing back down the mountain—not

knowing or understanding why they were reacting as they were.

“All gone,” Coim said. “I will wait here.” He plopped down on a boulder, crossed

his hairy legs at the knees, arms across his chest and wrinkled his nose. “Well? What are

you waiting for, hound? The fair damsel will not be rescued with you gawking at my

handsome puss. Be off with you!”

Fallon started down a barely visible trail but turned and looked back at the

creature. “Do you have a mate on your homeworld, Coim?” he asked.

Coim grinned hugely. “I have two as is my right as
An Fear Liath Mor
. I

impregnated both whilst I was visiting. They will birth the cubs in seven months. Adai

will have four cubs and Feei will have two.” He swung his foot. “She is not the breeder

Adai is, but always gives me males. I have thirty-eight males by her and fifty-two

females and twenty-four males by Adai.”

Fallon’s mouth dropped open. “You have…” He wasn’t sure if he calculated

correctly or not. “One hundred and fourteen children?!”

“One hundred forty-seven to be precise,” Coim said then sighed. “I was quite the

hound myself in my younger days.” His bushy brows lowered. “Go, pup! I’ve things to

see to. You are not my only ward, you know!”

Shaking his head at the revelation he’d just been handed, Fallon started down the

trail. As eager as he was to see Keenan, he was even more excited to tell her about

Coim’s brood of…

“Cubs,” he said softly. “
An Fear Liath Mor
is more bear-like than gorilla-like.”

275

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

He had to hold the laughter in check just thinking of the pseudo-scientists who had

classified the Sasquatch and the Yeti as ape-like cryptids. He knew his mother would be

very interested in what he had learned.

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Dancing on the Wind

Keenan opened her eyes and smiled. “What took you so long, lineman?” she asked.

“I stopped for a couple of furburgers, an order of bearded oysters and a cherry

pop,” he said dryly.

“Well, just as long as you didn’t dip your wick in some whore’s honey pot, I guess

that’s okay,” she said, snuggling up to him. She put a hand to his cheek, not in the least

surprised he was lying beside her in bed.

He fused his gaze with hers. “I thought you were dead,
myneeast caillagh
,” he

whispered, voice breaking, then turned his lips into her palm.

“I know,” she said, her own voice husky with apology.

His lips met hers briefly then broke away. He laid his forehead on hers and closed

his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

“How many?” she asked softly.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “Forty-nine including the one they left

behind to make us think it was you.”

“Oh God.” Her voice trembled. “I was hoping he’d lied.”

“Who is
he
?” he asked, putting emphasis on the last word.

“His name is Royce Cookson. He’s based in Atlanta,” she told him. “I have his

contact info. I’ve known about him for years. He even helped me on a case once. He is

head of security for my mother’s companies.”

“We’ll see to him later,” Fallon said, his eyes grim. “How ’bout getting that shapely

ass of yours out of bed and taking a little stroll with me up into the mountains?” he

asked. He caressed her cheek one last time then moved his fingers to the thin iron collar

that circled her neck. “Let’s get this off.”

Fallon put his hands to the iron and with his Reaper strength snapped it as easily as

if the choker had been balsa wood.

“Coim up there?”

“Yeppers, and he did a bang-up job healing my leg for me. He says he’s going to

provide a distraction, so hop to, missy,” he ordered, rolling away from her and getting

to his feet.

The house was silent, but Keenan knew the alarms were activated, the guards in

place. She had no idea how Fallon planned on getting them to safety, but she trusted

her man.

“Where’s Matty?” Fallon inquired as he stepped to the window and pushed aside