‘That’s not what was happening. At any point,’ Cam said firmly.
Lachlan pulled back, nose scrunching as he fought back obvious tears, and ran anxious hands over Cam’s shoulders. ‘Are you hurt? Did the Scorch…’
He couldn’t finish the sentence, so Cam did it for him. ‘Did it mark me again? No. The Scorch was Bryce’s doing. But he can’t touch me any more.’
The Minchman was standing over Bryce, frowning. He waved a hand in front of Bryce’s hollow face and got no response. ‘Witch. I’ll take this monster back to my territory,’ he announced, addressing Cam. ‘He must be tried for the murder of one of our own, and be punished accordingly.’
‘If there’s anything left of him to punish, be my guest,’ Cam said, looking down on Bryce. He could almost—almost—find it in himself to pity the creature hunched on the floor. It looked like nothing more than an empty shell, completely burned out from the inside.
Cam heard a sharp gasp from Lachlan, and they all glanced up to see the air shimmering with heat behind Bryce. The Minchman brandished a knife, uncertainly stepping away from the ghostly shape forming in the gloom.
It was the translucent outline of a woman, her features picked out in gently flickering flames. Paying no mind to anyone else, she rested both hands on Bryce’s shoulders.
With a croaking sigh, Bryce released his final breath.
The ghost sighed, too. A silky sound that seemed to reach right inside Cam and brush against his own lungs.
Cam felt there should have been some fanfare, maybe a few wise words to remember, or even just a glance of acknowledgement from Elspaith before she disappeared. But the phantom simply faded, leaving nothing more than stillness in her wake. She had done enough. It was time to sleep at last.
Cam let out a breath of his own. It was over.
Even as he thought it, a weight lifted from him, like a ten-pound hammer rising off his chest. He closed his eyes and felt for the edges of his shape… and found the hulking plesiosaur to be missing.
Heart singing, Cam grasped Lachlan’s hand and held it tightly.
‘What just happened?’ Lachlan asked, still staring at the spot where Elspaith had appeared. ‘Was that a ghost?’
‘Yes. Sort of. I’ll explain it all later.’ A slow grin spread over Cam’s face. He blurted the revelation he knew would matter to Lachlan the most. ‘The curse is gone, Lachy. No more monster. No more Scorch.’
Lachlan struggled to register this. ‘Gone? How? What?’ He blinked rapidly. ‘Gone,Cam? Is someone else the monster now?’
Cam shook his head. ‘There is no curse any more. It existed because of Elspaith. Because of her magic. Shewasthe curse, Lachy. And now she’s at rest, or I hope so, and she’s just as free of the loch as we are…’ Cam was sure he was jumbling the explanation, but it was enough for Lachlan to absorb the elation in his voice and interrupt him with a deep, earnest kiss.
The Minchman rolled his eyes at them. ‘Sounds like a lot of unnecessary hocus pocus. You witches make everything complicated.’ He poked Bryce’s corpse with the knife. The body crumbled into ashes, spilling over the floor like a tower of bricks that had just been knocked down. ‘Ugh. That’s going to be an issue. How am I going to get this pile of crap home?’
Cam didn’t want to pull away from Lachlan—he desperately needed to bask in his company awhile and simply relish the experience of being human again. But a cold cave containing a disintegrated corpse and remnants of a ritual murder circle was definitely not the right place for it. He broke away with a sigh and turned to the merman.
‘I guess we’ll find a broom.’ He gestured to the Matchless. ‘Need a ride?’
Chapter Sixteen
It was a long, drawn-out end to a horrific night as the three of them crammed onto Cam’s bike (with Fionn perched most precariously on the box at the back) and made the journey back to Red Point beach. Lachlan endured standing separately to Cam while he explained the whole sordid business to Iomhar on the windy shoreline.
He wanted nothing more than to cling onto Cam, preferably with legs slung round his waist, hands roaming over his back, and lips locked for a solid hour or two. But he respected that might make it a little difficult to conduct diplomatic relations with the Minchmen, so suffered through keeping a discreet distance between them.
He nestled into Cam’s chest the moment they finished their farewells and the Minchmen had retreated to the ocean with Bryce’s remains, carried unceremoniously in his own leather satchel.
‘I’ve missed you so damn much,’ Cam said into his hair.
Lachlan stayed quiet. There weren’t enough words to describe just how profoundly Cam’s absence had distressed him, so he simply tightened his grip instead. Cam squeezed him back. Lachlan noticed he wasn’t checking his strength. He didn’t need to, now there was no risk of crushing Lachlan in his arms. It felt amazing to receive all of Cam’s touch rather than just half of it.
Feeling reluctant to move but knowing there was much more to do, he reminded Cam, ‘We need to find Meredith.’
They’d already scouted along the dunes and discovered both Meredith and her car to be missing from the area. It was a good sign that she’d probably been able to drive away. The next logical place for her to go was The Lucky Teapot to find the Wulver and, as far as she knew, Cam.
They climbed on the Matchless once again, and set off for Loch Ness. Without helmets the airstream stung their faces, but Lachlan still found himself nearly dropping off with his cheek pressed against the warmth of Cam’s back.
The barest shade of pastel blue had begun to tinge the horizon when they reached Lachlan’s hillside. As they pulled in next to a familiar Corsa, Lachlan felt the tension ease from Cam’s shoulders. Meredith had made it here, so she must be okay.
