Falling for Angels - Hazel Hunter Page 0,7
know they locked you up.”
He hobbled forward, his lovely face growing ferocious. “There’s no help for you now, slut.”
I grabbed him, and used my druid power to pour all of my memories into his mind. I made him feel every punch, every kick, every ounce of pain Jake had made me suffer. He shrieked as I shoved him against the tree and stepped aside. Brennus, who had followed me in, swung his sword and neatly decapitated the monster, who collapsed into a pile of dark goo.
The chieftain gestured at Jake’s melting feet, which were horse’s hooves. “’Twas a calpa. ’Tis said on land they shape themselves as our loves.”
“So that’s how he Jaked me.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, my lord. I should have asked before I slammed you with my memories.”
“I’ve been enslaved, lass. ’Twas naught new to me.” He offered me his arm. “Come. We must warn Gill.”
Of course, I had to explain everything to the laird, and Simidh had to listen. I’d never seen my guy so shaken. Later that night he took me for a walk in the gardens, and held me in his arms as we looked out at the loch. Brennus had predicted more calpa would be coming.
“I wish to ken all you’ve suffered,” Simidh said. “Show me.”
“I’m done with Jake.” I touched his face, and let the memories of his love flood through me. All the gentleness he’d shown me had healed every one of the scars Jake had left on my heart. “This is what I want.”
Laird McGillean married us the next day. I looked great, Simidh beyond handsome, and the girls threw us a huge party. And then?
Hey, some memories I am keeping to myself.
Chapter 7
Training Day
“Nicol, you’ve a lass waiting on you,” Simidh told me as I hung my tartan to dry by the hearth. “’Tis her training day, and you’re to spar.”
I’d just spent the night on patrol, and had mud spattered from my heels to my shoulders. I wanted a bathe and my bed. “I dinnae train wee lasses.”
“Not all that wee, Nic,” a low voice said.
I glowered at the laird’s bodyguard before I turned to look into eyes the color of storm clouds. The Gods had gifted the tall lass with the form and muscle of a warrior goddess, and a cap of short curls that gleamed like polished bronze in the sunlight.
I felt Simidh prod me and finally remembered to bow. “My lady.”
“Call me Val.” She held out her hand and shook mine, and I felt a strange heat flare between us. She then regarded Simidh. “I probably won’t kill him.”
I expected the bodyguard to laugh at her, but he only nodded before he left the hall. “To spar with me, ’tisnae a jest.”
“I’ll try not to laugh.” She rolled her shoulders and tilted her head from side to side. “We should do this in the courtyard. More room, less breakable stuff.”
I escorted her out of the hall and into the keepe’s open center, where the garrison held sparring bouts. The moment she crossed the threshold Val turned to face me, her expression changing from steady calm to watchful readiness. Her stance altered to that of a warrior prepared, fashing me.
“You ken how to spar?” When Val nodded I moved to her right, and she mirrored me. “What do you for the Angels, then?”
“I’m the base. I toss and catch the flyers, support the pyramids and jumps, and keep everyone from cracking their skulls.” She ducked as I made to grasp her arms, and pivoted around behind me, forcing me to spin. “You have to be faster than this, Nic. Come on.”
I felt annoyed now. No one had gotten at my back in centuries, but that had to be her luck, not skill. Time to teach the lass why the laird sent me first into battle.
I came at her in the same moment she moved at me; I expected we would grapple for a moment before I took her down. Somehow she used her speed to turn my own against me, and flipped me over her head. I turned as I landed, more from habit than intention, and came up on my feet.
Val tackled me onto my back and pinned me with an arm to my neck. “I win.”
“Aye.” I rolled with her, and used my weight to hold her down. “But never gloat, lass.” I held her like that for a heartbeat before I rose and helped her to her feet, and saw some of the