Page 13 of The Last Kelpie

He looked back over his shoulder. The moonlight caught his eyes again, and for a second they looked silver. Reflective. Wrong.

“Does it matter?”

Then he walked away into the darkness, making no sound, and within seconds I couldn't see him anymore. It was as if he'd dissolved into the night itself.

I stood there for a long time, heart pounding, stopping myself from going after him. I had met him. That was the first step. Hopefully, I'd made enough of an impression that he'd show himself to me again. Chasing him would only make him run.

I turned and looked out at the loch. The water was still. No ripples spreading from whatever swam beneath.

When my heart finally calmed, I started the long walk back to the village. And I couldn't stop thinking about Áedán's eyes. The way they'd caught the light. The way they'd looked silver for just a second. And the way his thumb had stroked my hand. Had he been flirting? Did I like it?

I wouldn't answer that last question until I was safely inside my rental with the door locked behind me. I threw the pamphlet away, undressed, and went into the bathroom to wash up before bed. It was there, standing at the counter and staring at my reflection, that I admitted the truth to myself.

That little touch had awakened a longing in me for more. A lot more.

Chapter Six

I returned to the same spot the next evening with a notebook I didn't expect to use and a torch I kept switched off. The sun had set an hour before. The mountains were black shapes against a sky still holding the last blue of twilight. Beside me, the loch stretched out like hammered metal, dark and still. I searched for ripples.

All day, I'd gone back and forth about returning. Was it too obvious to go to the same location? Or was being obvious a good thing? Áedán would know I was looking for him. But maybe I shouldn't push him like that. Finally, I'd given in to the urges and gone.

Back where I'd met Áedán, I sat on the same flat rock where I'd stood the night before. The stone was cold through my jeans. Even during August, night in Scotland meant layers, but I'd dressed too lightly. My jacket wasn't enough. I pulled it tighter and waited, staring across the water, searching again for ripples. I saw a few, but they were normal movements, not those that hinted at something large below. The ones I'd seen the night before.

Then he was there. Not walking up from the shore or emerging from the water. Just there, standing ten feet away in the grass, as if he'd materialized out of the darkness itself.

“You came back.” Áedán came forward a few steps. “I wasnae sure you would.”

My mouth went dry, and I had to swallow before I could speak. “I wanted to see you again.”

He moved closer and stopped about five feet away. “Why?”

I shrugged.

Áedán's gaze held mine. “You're staring.”

I looked away, heat rising in my face. “Sorry.”

“Dinnae fash yourself. I'm used to it.” He came forward and sat down on the rock beside me, cross-legged. “People stare at me a lot.”

I bit my lip. I'd been more honest than I'd intended but I was still hiding something. I didn't enjoy doing that to him. “What's your name?”

“Áedán.” He pronounced it like a song. Ay-dawn. “So, you said that you're interested in folklore. Let me guess. You're writing a thesis. Something aboot water spirits. You've read all the books, studied all the accounts, and now you're here to see if any of it's real.”

“Something like that.”

“And is it?” He looked at me sideways. “Real?”

I made a face at him. “I only got here yesterday.”

He laughed. It was a beautiful sound, low and genuine. “You're right. Finding the truth takes time.” He turned toward me. “Tell me what you've learned aboot kelpies and I'll tell you if it's utter pish or not.”

My brain did what it always did when I was nervous—started cataloging facts. “Kelpies are Scottish water spirits that take the form of horses. They're associated with lochs and rivers. They were known to be guardians of the water. The name probably derives from the Scottish Gaelic cailpeach or colpach, meaning heifer or colt.”

He lifted a dark eyebrow.

“They killed people who polluted their water or committed violence near their shores. They were beloved by the people who lived around their lochs.”

“That's not the story I've heard lately.”