Free The Selkie Bride by Melanie Jackson Page B

skin bead with sweat, which I knew would feel disagreeably chilly when I finally reached open air again. Or maybe it was because the water at high tide ran too fast through the tunnel to permit anything to lodge there. Urged to greater effort by this thought, I moved faster, fighting sleepiness and cursing the wet skirts that hampered and chafed my clumsy legs.
    Fast as I trotted, the water was closing in faster—and the dark with it. And I found the gullies, both large and small, which increasingly laced the tunnel floor and walls, to be treacherously corniced with crumbling stone that gave easily, foot traps hidden by rotting sea wrack and loose scree and strangely shaped shells that waited just to turn my ankles. Haste was foolish, but dallying was not an option, and the inevitable finally occurred when I stumbled into a hidden hole, twisting my left ankle. The pain was sharp enough to make me feel sick. I leaned against the slimy rock wall, using blasphemous language as I reached for my pained joint and suddenly feared that even if Mistress MacLaren allowed herself to be inconvenienced enough to notice I was missing and send out a search party, help would come too late. Looking upward, I could see that the tunnel’s walls were wet all the way to the ceiling at this point. If I did not find another way out, I would drown in this narrow tunnel.
    I looked back the way I had come and was not encouraged. I could see no sign of daylight, only white water that thrashed about as if there were creatures in it. My ankle would have to hold my weight, or I wouldhave to crawl. Hissing every bad word I knew, I forced myself to hobble around the sharp bend in the tunnel—
    I ran straight into Lachlan. I couldn’t help noticing that he was shirtless and his kilt had been hastily donned. The bottoms of the uneven pleats were damp and smutted with sand.
    “ C’aite am bheil thu dol ?” Where are you going? he demanded, catching me by the shoulders. I had the impression that he was not entirely happy to see me, and startled enough by my presence to use Gaelic rather than Scots.
    “Out of here,” I answered, feeling immediate relief at not being alone in that terrible place, even if my companion was also rather frightening.
    “Aye. That would be best. The white horses are running hard,” he said, looking past me; and when I turned I could see the cold green water was topped with white foam, which suggested great turbulence. “A storm is coming on. An unnatural one. Follow me noo—and make haste. We havenae much time tae spare.” He let go of me and started off.
    The water roared behind me, sounding angry that I might escape after all. I made haste as best I could but fell behind almost immediately, and Lachlan looked back with annoyance and perhaps a bit of concern. He had a general damn-your-eyes attitude that afternoon, which left me confounded. I couldn’t imagine why my presence was bothering him. Surely he didn’t live in these caves or think that I was spying on him…?
    “My ankle is sprained,” I snarled defensively. “I can’t go any faster.”
    Frowning, he doubled back. Lachlan leaned in uncomfortably close, and before I could ask what he was doing, he pulled back his lips in a snarl of his own and scraped his rather long and sharp teeth along my earlobe and jaw.
    “Ow!” But before the echo of my cry died away, he had followed up with a long lick along the injured skin, which also lapped up the last of my tears. “What are you…?” I trailed off. I had been given ether once when I’d had my tonsils removed, and the anesthetic had produced something similar to what I was feeling.
    “ ’Tis the quickest way.” Lachlan’s long-fingered hands held me up while I fought for equilibrium. My sudden and unexplainable dizziness left me feeling helpless and grateful for his careless support. I noticed more than a touch of sin in those dark eyes that studied me, but whether it was the beginnings of lust or sins