Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends, Book 1) (29 page)

CHAPTER Twenty-eight

Waves swelled and lowered, lifting and dropping, until motion sickness pulled me from restless sleep. My hand flew to my mouth. I almost dashed to the garderobe or a chamber pot, but the uneasiness subsided. On a deep breath, cold, crisp air filled my lungs. An attempt to open my eyes brought reflective light shining so brightly, my lids protested themselves shut.

The disorientation grew when I attempted to sit up and discovered I already . . . stood. I lifted a hand to my brow, trying to shield my vision, but dropped it when equal light came from below. Unable to stop curiosity, I forced my eyes wide open.

Speechless—because I’d gone completely
thought
-less—I blinked in disbelief, dragging air into shocked-frozen lungs. The world had done another complete three-sixty . . . into a fantasy wonderland.

Microscopic, glittery particles hung suspended in midair, bouncing prisms off of each other. The refracted light seemed to come from everywhere, reminding me of a ski trip I’d once taken where the dry, freezing conditions had crystallized the air into billions of infinitesimal diamonds.

I stroked a splayed hand through the vapor. Cool to the touch, the molecules parted, swirling into disturbed mist. A glance down told me not only had I been transported to Wherever Land completely naked, I floated upon the obviously buoyant, somewhat-solid particles. We undulated together in slow rhythm from a current I sensed by a gentle breeze against my legs.

I took a hesitant step forward. My footing held, secure on the stiff, cotton-candy substrate. With no landmarks or features to gauge any direction by, I wandered aimlessly through the sparkling whiteness, seeking an explanation of my being deposited into all the soft-and-fluffy.

Clearly, stress had breached into my sleep, gifting me a confusing “awareness” dream—a dream within a dream. My subconscious often tricked me into believing I’d awoken into a realistic façade before it shocked the hell out of me, continuing the nightmare.

Only .
 . . the scenery around me resembled no realistic plane I’d ever been on.

And .
 . . I couldn’t remember the nightmare.

“Hellooo .
 . .” My voice sounded muted in the vast nothingness.

Something soft whispered across my right shin. Mist swirled in the wake of a dark shadow moving in my same unidentified direction. I hurried to follow.

As I closed the distance, I realized my pace hadn’t quickened. What I pursued . . . had slowed. The closer I approached, the more the creature’s details sharpened into focus.

I jarred to a stop. Memories of a black-cloaked image flickered, and my heart slammed from zero to sixty, hammering permanent dents into my ribcage. A burst of air from an invisible source cleared the air around us as the creature stopped, its back remaining toward me.

Midnight feathers covered enormous wings, the tops arching higher in agitation, the tips grazing the cloud-covered ground. Each plume rippled to attention as menace poured off the entity, sparking the air with its warning as if a cobra flared its hood, readying a strike. An undetected breeze tousled the figure’s long, glossy, black hair.

“What are you doing here, human?” His voice poured out deep and silky smooth.

Irritated that my subconscious decided to torture me, I laughed dryly. “Ha! Good question. When you find out, let me know.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly very aware of my nakedness and his extreme
maleness
. When I realized I couldn’t cross everything, and doing so would be hiding from my own fabricated fear, I dropped my hands, planting them on my hips, waiting.

He rotated around in slow motion. Those extraordinary wings arched further. An angular profile gave way to a strong jawline and high cheekbones when he squared off with me. Thick, ebony lashes lifted, flashing obsidian eyes that shifted into glittering sapphire emeralds. A bared chest and corded abdomen led to black leather pants that hugged tapered hips. Worn combat boots—in badass black, of course—had laces yanked to the perfect state of undone.

Deadly.

Gorgeous.

“Done assessing me like your next meal, female?” His gaze arrested mine as his head tilted down a notch, dark brows hooding those brilliant eyes.

“Pffft. You wish, Batman.” I laughed.

He dropped a scorching gaze down the length of my body, and chills covered every inch of my skin. My hands twitched as I fought the urge to shield my hardened nipples.

“Stupid woman. I could pin and fuck you before you ever knew what hit you.”

“Oh, really? That phenomenal? Funny, I’d have pegged you longer than a ten-second slam.” I grinned, thoroughly enjoying the unexpected sparring match with my alter ego.

A low growl ripped from his throat. He flashed from feet away to a breath apart. My lips nearly brushed against the expanse of a heaving chest, my breasts one deep inhalation too close to the top of his abs. The abrupt toe-to-toe forced me to angle my head up to look into those hypnotic eyes. The winged manifestation of my mind had to be a good seven-and-a-half-feet tall.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine? Lil’ ol’ me ruffle your feathers?”

Something stopped him. He didn’t touch me, even though he could have shattered every bone in my body with a wrist flick. His nostrils flared, heated puffs fogging over my face.

Emboldened by the perceived restraint, I unfurled my cocky smartass flag to fly at full mast. “Sylvester got that tongue, Tweety?”

A pulse of fury actually reverberated through my body, and my smile faded. I swallowed down the taste of his rage, detecting notes of resentment with an aftertaste of chaos.

An additional voice sounded out. “Skorpius, is that any way to treat an honored guest?”

Sunshine stood his ground like carved marble, glaring down at me with those prismatic eyes.

Refusing to back down, I held my stance without a single blink.

“
Skorpius.
” The voice layered, a deeper, undeniable command penetrating the surface tone.

Sunshine snorted a final hot puff over my face and backed off, but only by arm’s length. Another leviathan stepped into view just beyond him. I leaned slowly to the right to see the newcomer.

Twins.
Not identical, but brothers beyond a doubt.

I stared back and forth between the pair, amazed. In difference, they went polar opposite: brilliant day to darkest night, alabaster skin to tanned olive, platinum locks to inky jet. Wings of purest snow brushed against those of gleaming coal. The same chiseled facial features were softened by glistening silver eyes framed by gold lashes and brows. Bare-chested, and built in every way like his brother, he wore white linen pants and stood barefoot.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the newcomer asked.

Sunshine grunted. “Girl-That-Annoys-Me .
 . . Orion.” Every feather on those black wings shook—like a dog ridding his coat of water—as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Incredulous at the complexity of the dream, I laughed. “Seriously. Good angel, bad angel? Named for opposite Greek-god-inspired constellations in the sky?”

Orion shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, seeming to assess my worth as he visually sized me up. “So? We have a sense of humor.”

I grumbled, “As if you named yourselves.”

Impatient with the conversation with my psyche, my gaze wandered around the expanse of white mist, wondering when the scene would mirage into the next dream or a semi-aware self-analysis.

Orion’s pure voice spoke calmly. “Ms. MacInnes, if we uttered our given names, your eardrums would burst. And since you’ve inadvertently left the portal wide open, so would every piece of glass in your beloved
Brodie Castle.”

“
Right . . .
” I slid a glance back toward them, playing along with the vivid dreamscape.

“What do you think of her?” Orion asked.

Sunshine tilted his head, shrugging. “Who am I to judge? She looks scrappy. Beneath her pixie, however, brews a volcano of attitude.”

I rolled my eyes. Never had my five-foot-nine ever been called anything resembling petite. “I would
so
kick your ass, Sunshine.”

He barked out a mocking laugh. “See? I rest my case.”

I waved my arms. “Hello, boys. Standing right here. Gonna talk about me? How ’bout we answer some of my questions. ’kay?”

They both smirked as if amused, or impressed.

“Go ahead, Ms. MacInnes,” Orion said.

“What’s with all the time travel, dropping me without notice—
or my permission—
anywhere you see fit? And what’s with Cupcake stealing the box away?” I nodded at Sunshine, trying so hard not to smile as he ruffled at yet another sugared nickname, but failed miserably, a short laugh escaping. I quickly pressed my lips together again, trying to behave.

Sunshine cast an impatient look at his brother.
Yeah, well, that makes two of us.
Orion shook his head imperceptibly. They had a whole nonverbal conversation going on in front of me too.

“Ms. MacInnes, we do not control the time travel. You do.
Cupcake
did not
steal
the box. He’d been given a task. As always, he completed it with efficient precision.”

Sunshine growled low at being called Cupcake. Again.

“Wait. What do you mean,
I do
?”

“Perhaps it would be better to show you,” Orion said.

The mist surrounding us dissolved, even though my feet still stood solidly on an unseen floor. Iain’s entire castle grounds appeared below. Soldiers practiced on the field. Women turned a fresh row in the garden. Two young girls chased after a grasshopper, their peals of laughter reaching my lofty ears. I even saw Brigid beneath a tree. She held a leather-bound book in her lap, but it was closed, and her gaze stared off into the distance.

A strong wind blew, masking the view as white clouds flew by. When the vapor cleared, the castle grounds were gone, and the image was replaced by a half-built pyramid. Slaves worked, positioning enormous stones of granite with an elaborate pulley system. Captivated, I focused on the long-mysterious method of hoisting the massive pieces of stone. The vision honed in where I’d concentrated, but then shifted to a marble room within a palace.

A young man stood near a reflecting pool. He wore a fine, turquoise linen tunic fringed in gold embroidery and had ornate gold bands around one bicep. A disturbance in the air, like heat shimmering above near-molten asphalt, occurred opposite the water, and a black-cloaked figure materialized into the scene.

I squinted. When I concentrated on the detail of the material instead of the figure as a whole, feathers appeared, the hood became tousled raven hair, and I saw the face in profile.

Well, hello, Sunshine.

He held a box.
The
box.

The Egyptian fell to his knees, interpreting the appearance as a visitation from one of his gods. He threw his upper body down, hands over his head, bowing facedown.

Words I couldn’t hear were exchanged. The Egyptian stood hesitantly as Sunshine walked forward, right over the water, and stood before the man, offering the box. The man accepted the gift with a questioning look on his face, staring wide-eyed at the treasure. Sunshine nodded. Completely absorbed in the box, the Egyptian missed it when Sunshine flattened his feathers, refracting the light in the room, and vanished.

I glanced at the boys that orchestrated my movie. Orion concentrated on the show, but Sunshine looked bored. I laughed.

The image clouded over again, drawing my attention. I shifted my weight to my other hip, crossing my arms over my bare chest, instinctually covering up even though neither of my companions seemed to care . . . or even be remotely aware.

A third image appeared. We hovered far above an island chain. From an eagle’s eye in flight, our view descended, passing over a snowcapped
Mt. Fuji and the misted valleys of Japan.