Earth's Requiem(81)

He laughed. “’Tis why I was gone a wee bit longer than I’d expected. I brought reinforcements along, and they traveled with their bodies. Wouldna have been verra useful to have had just their astral selves here.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and called to whoever had spoken, “Stay topside till we’re decent.”

Raucous laughter rang from above.

Embarrassment engulfed Aislinn as she disentangled herself. How many strange men had listened to her shrieking to Fionn to fuck her harder, goddammit? “You should have told me,” she muttered.

“And when would there have been the time for that?” The glow from his mage light had developed a decidedly randy hue, like an old west bordello. He quirked an eyebrow. “Never forget, lass. Death and sex are linked. Ye came from a battlefield, so ye got the death part. When I found you, ye were ripe for the plucking.”

“Like a Christmas goose.” Aislinn snorted and slid her exposed leg back into her pants. She fired her own mage light, hunted down her boot, and stuffed her foot into it. “Here, help me get the wolf upstairs.”

“How’d ye get him down here without me?”

“Magic.”

“Why dinna I think of that? And here I was deluding myself that ’twas one more reason ye wouldna try the gateway.”

She ignored the sarcastic undercurrent in his words. Something he’d said earlier seemed impossible. “You can pull jump magic so potent that it transports you across an ocean?”

“Aye, lass. It takes twice as long as astral travel, but ’tis certainly possible.”

She opened her mouth to tell him about Taltos, but he stopped her with a kiss. “Wait until ye can tell us all.”

Three men waited for them in the kitchen, along with Bella. The bird shot Fionn what looked like a reproachful glance. Aislinn wondered if he’d made the raven stay in the kitchen. Though the men tried to wipe knowing leers off their bearded faces, it was a losing battle.



Aislinn’s cheeks flamed, but she squared her shoulders and said. “I’m going to have a quick wash. Back in a flash.” Rune trailed after her as she headed down the hallway.

She settled for cold water, not wanting to take time to run a bath. Aislinn did what she could to sponge blood off herself and the wolf. He didn’t seem to appreciate the impromptu bath and skulked away as soon as she let go of him. “Where are you going?” she called.

“Hunting. I’m hungry.”

She thought about telling him to be careful, but decided not to. Rune had been a hero tonight. You didn’t tell heroes to be careful. You afforded them the respect of acknowledging they could take care of themselves.

Grateful for clothes that didn’t stink of blood, she folded up the bottoms of a pair of Marta’s pants and threw a faded blue flannel shirt on over the top of them. Christ, the woman had been a giant. Aislinn was tall at nearly six feet, so pants were generally too short. She’d never had to cut a pair down before. Feet bare, she padded toward the kitchen. The smell of food filled her nose the minute she hit the hallway, and her mouth flooded with saliva. She had no idea what time it was. Had she spent what was left of the previous night in Taltos?

She peered through the kitchen windows. Dawn lightened the sky to a muddy gray. “Hmph. Answers one question,” she muttered and turned her attention to the men.

Seeming larger than life, they sprawled in chairs around the kitchen table. They were all about Fionn’s size—around six foot four or so—bodies thick with muscle. Two of the strangers were blond, the other dark. Everyone’s hair was braided and tied out of the way with strips of leather. Four sets of eyes zeroed in on her, so full of questions that it made her head spin.

Aislinn grabbed one of the biscuits she’d made, dropped it onto a plate, and spooned something fragrant from a large pot over it. “Who are all of you?” she asked, talking with her mouth full because she was too hungry to wait. Besides, manners had gone out with the demise of civilization.

“I am Arawn,” the dark-haired man said, half bowing to her. His eyes were as dark as his hair. A beard flowed down his chest. When he smiled, his teeth were very white against it. He wore leather pants, boots that laced halfway up his shins, and a leather vest that left his chest bare. A gold medallion, heavy with runes, hung from his neck.



She inclined her head to him. “God of the dead. Also revenge, terror, and war.” Aislinn glanced at Fionn. “I’m impressed. Where did you find him?”

“That’s only because ye havena yet heard who I am.” One of the blond giants leapt to his feet and bowed from the waist. “This is how ’tis done,” he told Arawn, humor sparking from his eyes. “Ye rise in the presence of the fair sex.” Dark blue robes fluttered. He tightened a black sash so vigorously that leather pouches swung from it. Aislinn wondered what was in them. A carved wooden staff, glowing with an inner light, was propped against the table next to him. His reddish beard was close cropped, following the lines of his jaw. Like her, his feet were bare.