Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2) by Heather R. Blair Page B

hearing tales of the O'Neill lad for months now and finally her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
    Far below, metal flashed and blood fell on a field of velvet green so bright it hurt the eyes. Nothing shone brighter than the man that stood dead center of the melee. Sunlight glinted on his golden curls. That was him. Áedán O'Neill. He'd lost his helm some time ago, but the lack had not made him any less fearless.
    Another damme Viking raid. How she despised these Norsemen, creeping into her Eire on the tides, a black wave that seemed poised to crash over the whole of the north. But the battles, well…those at least offered some entertainment.
    This Viking party had been spotted before dawn, pulling their longboats onto shore. A relay of runners, organized in part by Uí Néill king and his son, had alerted the keep. The would-be looters had walked straight into a trap that snapped shut with the rising of the sun. The king's son had led the charge and it was him that she watched.
    Three men approached him now, though she thought it likely he was aware of only the two in front. They were big shaggy Norsemen, their hide cloaks thick with fur as they flanked him, but the real danger lurked behind. A lithe man in a helm of dull bronze edged nearer to the fair-haired youth. Bav's breath caught in her throat.
    There was no need for her worry. At the last second the bright figure whirled, slicing the throat of the man behind him with a casual grace. Blood sprayed and instantly the two now at his back lunged. Spinning again, the sword's arc swept in one easy movement from throat to one of the attacker's arms, hewing if off cleanly at the wrist. Barely a pause before the stroke continued into the rush of the next man, burying itself halfway to the hilt in his heart.
    Lifting his foot, the O'Neill lad planted it on the downed man's chest, yanking his sword free of the body. The last man was trying to stand, cradling his handless arm as he tottered to his feet. One step to the right, a flash of steel and that man as well joined his fellows on their way to Valhalla.
    Stepping over the bodies, Áedán surveyed the valley. What Norsemen remained were already down or fleeing. It had been a rout. One of the few the Celts had seen that long summer. She saw the sword slice high into cold morning air that seemed to shimmer as a chorus of cheers rang from hillside to hillside. Áedán wiped the blood from his face, a fierce, hard look of satisfaction on his face as he lowered the sword.
    Had she ever seen anything so beautiful?
     
    She approached the keep late that night, dropping onto the battlement walls with nary a whisper. Choosing not to be seen when her fair-haired boy finally appeared, laughingly calling out at someone behind him in the hall.
    "Oy, Conal! Give a man a mo' to lighten his load and I'll be seeing ye passed out under tha' table by morn."
    He pissed copiously over the wall, rolling his head from side to side. Finally, he gave a last shake and tucked himself back in his braes. He stretched again, a long, loose coil of muscle rippling under the light grey tunic, sighing as he rubbed his chest absently with one hand as if it pained him.
    Was he hurt? She reached for him…
    He froze. Bav's fingers hovered inches from his skin, even though he couldn't see her. No mortal should have been able to sense her at all. But he did, she was sure of it.
    Oh, he was full of surprises, this one!
    He turned on the balls of his feet, the wary movement of a hunter who senses he is about to become prey. Without hesitation she became corporeal, a smile ready on her lips.
    He didn't stumble back, only straightened in wonder. His eyes traced her up, down and up again. Cocking his head, he gave her his own slow smile.
    "Now where did such a vision as yerself come from? Surely the ale alone couldna be fine enough to conjure me one so lovely?"
    "I dinna come from yer bottle, or yer fanciful mind. Donna ye know me?"
    "Should I, lovely?"
    "I