Awakened

unfulfilled and as mundane as is possible for a vampyre,” Sgiach explained.
    “But if ’tis a Warrior whose gifts are powerful, or one who has faced Darkness, been touched by the fight against evil—well, that Warrior cannae fade so easily into obscurity,” Seoras said.
    “And Stark is both,” I said.
    “He is indeed. Continue to trust me, Zoey. It is better for your Guardian to walk the path meant for him than to slink around and, perhaps, get caught in the shadows,” Sgiach said.
    “I see your point, but getting him to use his bow again isn’t going to be easy.”
    “Ach, well, yu have the magick of the ancients to call upon while yur here on our isle, don’t you now?”
    I looked from Seoras to Sgiach. They were right. I felt it in my gut. Stark couldn’t hide from the gifts Nyx had given him any more than I could deny my connection to the five elements. “Okay, I’ll convince him. Where is he anyway?”
    “The laddie is restless,” Seoras said. “I saw him walkin’ by the shore side of the castle.”
    My heart squeezed. We’d just decided the day before that we were going to stay here on Skye, indefinitely. And after what had just happened with Sgiach and me, I could hardly bear thinking about leaving. “But he seemed fine with staying,” I spoke my thoughts aloud.
    “What’s wrong with him isna so much where he is, but who he is,” Seoras said.
    “Huh?” I said brilliantly.
    “Zoey, what Seoras means is that you’ll find your Guardian’s restlessness much improved when he is a whole Warrior again,” Sgiach said.
    “And a whole Warrior uses all of his gifts,” Seoras said with finality.
    “Go to him and help him become whole again,” Sgiach said.
    “How?” I asked.
    “Ach, wumman, use yur Goddess-given brains and figure that oot for yurself.”
    With a gentle push and a shooing motion, the queen and her Guardian sent me from the grove. I sighed, mentally scratched my head, and started toward the shoreline wondering just what the heck kind of word ach was.

CHAPTER TEN

    Zoey

    Distracted by thinking about Stark, I made my way down the slippery stone stairway that wound around the base of the castle, emptying out on the rocky shore from which Sgiach’s edifice had been built straight up, so that it was cliff-like and totally imposing.
    The sun was beginning to set, allowing the sky to retain some of its illumination, but I was glad for the rows of torches that jutted from the stone base of the castle’s foundation.
    Stark was alone. His back was to me and I got to watch him as I picked my way across the shore to him. He held a large leather shield in one hand, and a long claymore in the other, and he was practicing thrusts and parries as if he were facing a dangerous, but invisible, enemy. I moved quietly, taking my time and enjoying the view.
    Had he gotten taller all of a sudden? And more muscular? He was sweating and breathing hard, and he looked strong and very, very male and dangerous-ancient-Warrior-like in his kilt. I remembered how his body had felt against mine the night before, and how we’d slept all pressed together, and my stomach gave a weird little lurch.
    He makes me feel safe, and I love him.
    I could stay here with him, away from the rest of the world, forever.
    A chill passed over me with the thought and I shivered. At that moment Stark dropped his guard and turned. I saw the alert concern in his eyes that only faded when I smiled and waved at him. Then his gaze went to what I was holding in the hand I was waving, and his welcoming smile faded, even though he opened his arms to me, hugged me, and gave me a lingering kiss.
    “Hey, you look hot when you do that sword stuff,” I said.
    “It’s called training. And I’m not supposed to look hot, Z. I’m supposed to look intimidating.”
    “Oh, you do, you do. I was practically scared to death.” I put on my best bad, fake–Southern belle accent and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead like I was gonna swoon.
    “You’re really not very good at accents, ma’am,” he said in a seriously good fake-Southern accent. Then he took my hand and held it against his chest right over his heart, moving close to me. “But if you want, Miss Zoey, I could try to teach you.”
    Okay, I know it’s silly, but his Southern gentleman accent made my knees feel all weak—and then his words actually got through the lust fog I was brewing for him, and suddenly I knew how to start getting him comfortable with