Darkness In The Flames

by Kelly, Sahara

  *~*~*~*

  A little way away, tucked behind a clump of massive bushes, Nick watched. He’d dismounted and tethered his horse well clear of the road, slipping into his current position without a sound.

  His vision showed him the setup quite plainly. One group ready to ride into the path of the travelers and halt the coach, a few more on the other side ready to enforce the demands. Good solid men, up against circumstances they could not control, just as he was himself.

  He understood and held no rancor. Humans needed to survive. It was a basic instinct common to all living things. The fact that this was a bloodless gang said much about their motives and their leader. There were other gangs who thought nothing of murdering their victims, bringing horror, outrage and the authorities down on their heads.

  Several of those had ended their careers ignominiously dangling from a gallows.

  Nick swallowed awkwardly. That would never be Verity’s fate if he could prevent it. She was doing the best she could for men who had served their country and only preying on those who could well afford to part with some of their riches. There were no vicious criminals here on this night, just desperate men who refused to let their families starve in a year when crops had failed and the weather unfailingly dismal. Had he been in their shoes Nick knew damn well he’d have been down there with them. Waiting.

  And his ears detected the rumble of wheels along with hoof beats seconds before a hoot from an owl signaled the oncoming coach to the highwaymen.

  Tensing a little, Nick moved closer, guessing their focus would be on the road, not any sound he might inadvertently make—though he knew he’d made none at all.

  There she was, tall and darkly clad but unmistakable. Sitting her horse with grace and ease in spite of the mask covering most of her face and the cap that hid her hair. What a woman. A pang of pride mixed with lust shot through Nick as he stared at her.

  The coach rounded the bend, its pace necessarily slow because of the darkness covering this part of the road. Two men sat on the box, one with the reins held tightly, the other slumping beside him. The coach was dusty after its trip, the horses sweating and huffing. Clearly they were looking forward to their journey’s end.

  “Hold.” Verity’s voice rang firmly out into the night and her crew moved behind her to block the road. One held a small lantern which he now uncovered. It shed sufficient light for the driver to see what he was facing—masked riders ahead, weapons tucked into their belts.

  With a muffled oath he surrendered to the inevitable. A good thing, in Nick’s opinion. His horses could not have outrun them and there were too many to shoot.

  “Your valuables.” Verity had ridden to the door of the coach and wrenched it open, leaning down and speaking clearly into the interior. “Be quick.”

  Noises of confusion emanated from the dimly lit interior, a cry of horror, an oath—Nick detected the slurring of words. Probably the guests were already easing the pain of their travel with liquor.

  So be it. They were on their way to the Towers apparently. There would be more drinks awaiting them. Lots more, knowing Isolde. He had no sympathy whatever. They were in no danger from these men and probably carried more wealth than they’d ever actually need. Unlike those circling the team and steadying them. Those were men who would do anything to keep their families alive.

  Nick observed the proceedings, noting with approval the silence from the highwaymen. No idle chatter or goading laughter. They had a job to do and they were doing it effectively.

  Shifting a little, something caught his eye.

  There—a little way behind the coach—something was moving. He stared again, realizing what it was.

  An outrider, following a fair distance from the coach. And the man was armed—the glint that had caught Nick’s eye was the metal on his pistol. He was raising it…aiming it…at Verity.

  Fuck.

  Nick nearly flew, blessing his supernatural skills in that moment. Verity was straightening in her saddle with hands full of the bounty she’d received from the drunken occupants of the coach.

  The shot rang out as Nick reached her, leaping to her horse in a bound fueled by fear and anger. He felt something thud into his body as he lifted her physically and fell with her to the road.

  The coachman shouted something and whipped up the horses as the highwaymen backed confusedly away to let them pass. Spooked by the shot, the horses took off in a hurry and seconds later a lone horsemen galloped after them, leaving the men in the road, stunned and horrified.

  “God, what…” Verity lifted her hand to her head. She turned and looked at the man on whom she’d landed, none too gently. “A shot…Nick?”

  She froze, her hair loosened by their tumble. “Jesus, Nick.” She seemed bereft of words.

  “Get them gone.” Nick motioned to the others. “They need to be far away now.”

  Gathering her wits, Verity shoved her hair back underneath her cap and stood. “We must away. I will take care of this, men. Here.” She passed over what she could retrieve of the loot. “Put this with the rest and divide it.”

  One man stepped forward. “Hermes—are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Mick. But this will be my last night with you all. I must leave. If you have to continue, ‘twill be under your leadership. You’re a good man, Mick, as are you all.” She glanced around. “I’ve been proud to lead you. But I cannot go on anymore. The time has come for me to depart this place.”

  Mick reached up and laid a beefy hand on her shoulder. “What of him?” He stared at Nick. “He’s injured I’m thinking.”

  Verity fell to her knees and touched Nick. He knew he’d been hit. Where, he wasn’t sure, but the impact of the shot had been unmistakable. Verity’s indrawn breath confirmed it.

  “I’ll tend to him. ‘Tis not something you need worry about to add to your troubles. Go now. All of you.” She stood, carefully wiping her hands on her breeches. “It’s been an honor to ride with you. May God protect you and yours.”

  Mick nodded and fumbled something, passing her a fine diamond pendant. “Here. You’ve earned this.” He turned. “Anybody got any objections?”

  There was silence. Then one man spoke. “We’ll miss ye, Hermes. Reckon we owe you more’n this piece. So do our families.”

  Nick could see Verity fight her emotions. “Thanks, friend. Be gone now. Be safe. I have business here to tend to.”

  Without further ado they were off, almost silently melting into the shadows.

  “Are you crying, Hermes?” Nick couldn’t help the teasing question. “And here I thought highwaymen never cried.”

  She dropped to her knees once more. “Nick, you fool. You’ve been shot. There’s so much blood…”

  Heedless of his clothing she ripped his shirt open. And gasped.

  Nick gulped. He knew he would be healing even as she stared at him. It looked as though the time for those awkward questions had arrived.

  Chapter Ten

  It might be dark and it might be a time of fear, adrenaline and upheaval, but Verity was sure of one thing. Nick had been hit. Yet there was no wound. She frowned, running hands that were chilled over his skin. It was equally cool to her touch, but she could find no telltale soft spots, no ragged or torn flesh.

  Frantically she tore at his clothing, afraid she’d missed the place. He must be bleeding—there was blood on his shirt. Where was it coming from?

  There was nothing. Just what might have been a bruise over his chest if she could have seen it more clearly. She rested back on her heels and stared at him. “Nick…I don’t understand. You took that bullet… I felt it hit you as you knocked me off the horse. You bled. And yet I can find no injury.”

  He sighed and shifted, raising himself to a sitting position and gathering his shirt back around him. “I know.”

  He stood and extended a hand down to help Verity to her feet. Automatically she took it, feeling the solid strength of his grip. Truly he was uninjured.

 
; “Nick. What are you?” The question came unbidden to her lips. A jumble of words from her gut not her brain. And yet they encompassed all that she wanted—no, needed—to ask.

  “I will tell you, sweetheart. But not here. Not in the middle of the road.” He glanced around noticing their horses calmly cropping grass. “Will you come with me?”

  “Where?”

  “To a place that’s safe for me. A place—” He paused and Verity stilled, sensing his concentration on his words. “A place of darkness, but a place that will keep us both safe nonetheless.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said once more. This time it was less of a statement than a whisper of confusion.

  “Come.” He led her to her horse and handed her the reins. “Trust me. Trust me and I will tell you everything.”

  That she could do. “Yes. All right. I trust you, Nick.”

  It was the truth. Verity swung herself unaided into the saddle and knew, deep down in her heart, that she did trust him. Whatever secrets this man held, they would not harm her. She also sensed he was not one to willingly impart those secrets to another. His shoulders looked weary as he led them through the trees and she noticed him run a hand through his hair in an absent gesture of worry perhaps, or frustration.

  Whatever it was, they’d deal with it together. For Verity knew their meeting was no act of mere chance. Some destiny had arranged for them to unite at this time in this place. She couldn’t have been more sure of anything had she received an edict from the King himself stating the fact.

  They had found each other for a reason—something that went beyond the mere mutual physical pleasure they’d discovered in bed.

  They rode silently for a little while, Nick lost in his thoughts and Verity trying to sort out hers. Everything had changed on this night. She had already made the decision to quit the Towers and leave the FitzAdamses to their own perversions. She had planned on losing herself somewhere quiet but now—now there was an added wrinkle to her scheme.

  Nick Blaine. The man who had taken her to the very heights, whose eyes had mysteriously changed color over the years since she’d seen him. The man who had taken a gunshot to the chest and not been wounded.

  He was a mystery all right. A somber shadow that had fallen across her life only to bring light into it instead of darkness. It was a strange set of circumstances she could not fathom at all.

  Perhaps Nick would be able to explain it. If anybody could, he could. Verity recalled the laughing youth she’d admired so strongly and his gift for the world of natural science. He’d been the one to show her a butterfly up close, to gently brush the fluttering wings and let her glimpse the magical world of dust and color that she’d seen on his fingertip.

  To understand how such a tiny creature could emerge from its cocoon and take flight into the sunshine, living its short life to the fullest, savoring the nectar of flowers and the warmth of daylight.

  He’d done so with infectious enthusiasm, not teaching so much as enthralling the child she was back then. Even as young as she’d been, she’d recognized his passion for science. A passion she’d now experienced first hand in his arms as she opened herself to him.

  She’d emerged much like that butterfly from her cocoon of misery to fly into the sunlight of his body and his kiss.

  Verity brushed the whimsical thoughts away as Nick turned down a barely visible path and led them toward a large shape—a barrow perhaps—lurking beyond in the darkness. He dismounted and motioned for her to do the same.

  Silently she slid from her horse and imitated Nick’s movements, unfastening her saddle and freeing the creature to roam with Nick’s mount to a nearby patch of grass.

  “They will stay. The grazing is good.” His voice was rough and low. “Come. Let me show you…”

  Verity heard him swallow down the rest of his words. Instinctively she reached for his hand. “I’m here.”

  They walked into a well-concealed opening in the barrow and down a little passage, the light receding as they moved deeper. Blind now, Verity could only cling to Nick and follow where he led.

  Finally he paused. “Stay a moment. I believe I have a little candle left here somewhere.”

  His hand slid from hers and she stood, bereft, in the blackness. There was a fumbling, a harsh rasp and then a tiny flicker of light as he lit a stump of candle. Verity glanced around at the cave-like interior that somebody had hollowed from this ancient lump of earth. There was nothing to see.

  Nothing but Nick.

  And the expressions racing across his face caught at her heart and made her gasp.

  Fear, pain, desolation—they were all there in equal measures. His eyes caught the candlelight and reflected it back oddly, flickering red then gleaming, only to be shielded as he dropped his gaze to a pile of branches on the floor.

  “Welcome to my home, Verity. Such as it is. This is how I live now. A creature of the night, shunning the sun. There is a vicious darkness in me—in my soul. This is how I survive it.”

  Her breath tangled in her lungs, Verity reached for Nick and drew him down next to her as she sat on the branches. There were still wet patches on his shirt from his blood, but he looked unharmed. No fresh signs of injury. He really had sustained no wounds at all.

  She blinked. “I cannot grasp this at all, Nick. Start from the beginning. Please? Tell me?” Her fingers linked with his and squeezed.

  “You will hate me. Despise me. Loathe what I have become.”

  Verity’s grip tightened. “Never.” She reached for his tattered garment and pulled at it. “Take this off. Let me see you are uninjured.”

  Awkwardly, he shrugged away the remnants of stained linen. “As you can see, I am unharmed. ‘Tis perhaps one of the few benefits of my life now.”

  “Do you have another? You are cool, Nick.” Her hand fell to his chest like a lodestone pointing north. She needed to touch him with a need that threatened to choke her. “Forgive me. Touching you is a pleasure I find I cannot deny myself.”

  He sighed then. “Your hand on my body—Verity, it brings me pleasure too. Tenfold.”

  Tenderly she drew him to her, slipping her arms around him and encouraging him to lean against her. “Then trust me Nick. Tell me what has happened over the years since we first met. Please—I must know.”

  “Very well. But if—at any time—you wish to leave this place and never return, you are free to do so.” He shifted and stared into her eyes. “I mean that, Verity. I will never harm you, nor hold you against your will.”

  She was surprised at the slight grin she felt curving her lips. “Then hold me against your chest instead. I would hear this tale from a place that best suits me.”

  Obligingly Nick settled Verity into his embrace, curling them both into a proximity that comforted her and aroused her. She pushed the need aside. This was a time for talking. Touching could—for this moment at least—wait.

  Although there was a pleasure in the feel of him that would not be denied.

  Verity sighed and relaxed. “Where did it all begin?”

  “In Europe. A small place called—Rogaška.”

  Nick struggled for words. Dragging up these memories would be hard for him, but he knew it was essential. His relationship with Verity—such as it was or would be—depended on her knowing the truth in all its gory horror.

  “I was on the Grand Tour, a mere lad loose on the Continent. There had been a party of us, but we’d split up in Trieste. I’d wanted to go to Rogaška because I’d heard there were mineral springs there a weary visitor might explore.” He chuckled wryly. “I was curious. Ever my besetting sin.”

  “Did you find them?”

  “Yes. Oh yes. I found them. And that’s where I met a woman.” He felt Verity shift next to him. “Are you certain you want to hear this?”

  It was her turn to chuckle into the gloom. “Nick, you’ve seen some of my life recently. I do not shock easily, believe me.”

  “I’ll take you at your word. Well, this woman�
�she was astoundingly beautiful, Verity. And I mean astounding. The sort of beauty that stops a man’s heart. Her hair was the red of burning embers, her skin milk-smooth…”

  “I understand.”

  “Yes, er…quite.” Nick wisely proceeded with his tale. “She found me in one of the springs—it’s like a natural outdoors bathing spa there. Lots of steaming pools heated from within, surprisingly warm for such a cool location.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It was. Until her. Until Thérèse.” Nick paused. Just the mention of her name, giving voice to the evil he’d encountered, sent a shudder to his soul.

  “She…she seduced you?” Verity hesitantly encouraged him.

  “I suppose so. I was quite ready to be seduced though. It was as much my fault as any. Had I turned her down…”

  Verity snorted. “Nick, you were young, handsome and free. She was clearly ready to take you and she wanted you. I cannot blame her. I would have done the same.”

  “You would?” Nick turned Verity’s face to his, seeking the truth in her glowing brown eyes.

  She blushed. “That’s neither here nor there. Go on.”

  On a whim, Nick brushed her lips with his. “Thank you for that.”

  “So you and this Thérèse…”

  “She…we…well, to be blunt, we fucked each other’s brains out. It was truly incredible too. Even then, I should have sensed…”

  “What?”

  “That there was something about her that wasn’t…normal.” Nick thought for a few moments. Had he known? The truth hit him. “No. I didn’t know. I do now, of course, but then? I had no idea at all.”

  A little of the darkness within him lifted as some of the guilt slipped away to vanish into nothingness. He could not have known what Thérèse was. Never in a million lifetimes could he have known.

  “What happened?”

  He swallowed. “Afterwards, I was exhausted. Slumped in the springs, easing my muscles and my mind. She came to me, drifting on the waters, settling herself on my lap. And then…”

  The memories rushed back with a vengeance.