The Darkest Day

by Britt Bury

  A burst of intoxicating scent flooded his mind. He heard her heart thud loudly. Lowering his sword, he stepped back, mesmerized by her unexplainable transformation. He watched her cheeks pinken and her hair grow thick and glossy, changing from dirty blond to a deep chocolate brown. The large curls wound down her back, cascading over her newly olive skin. Her lips were deep crimson and her bright green eyes were fringed with thick black lashes.

  She clawed at her shirt, shredding and removing it as if her life depended on it. Kelvin couldn’t help but gape at the black silk bra lining her full breasts. He ran a palm over his mouth, openly staring at her marvelous, newly exposed physique.

  He wanted to help her—No! He wanted to kill her. No, he wanted to taste her. Her eyes squeezed shut; she clenched her teeth. This was not a look of pain. This was a look of strangulation. Yet nothing gripped her. Nothing that Kelvin could see at least. He stood there, helpless, watching this beautiful female writhe in agony.

  She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself, peering up at him, her green eyes burning brightly. “Wh-what’s ha-happening to me?” she asked, struggling to force out each word.

  Kelvin gazed in disbelief, too busy drinking in the sight of her to rationalize a coherent thought. Her scent was maddening. His breed of Pookah harbored an acute sense of smell, and he could instantly detect an odd sweetness in her blood, like pure sugar pumping through her veins. Pure. Sweet. Mortal.

  Mortal?

  It appeared the little female wasn’t a Fionn after all, rather a human mystically disguised as one. He could see the magic roll off of her like a snake shedding old skin. How in the hell was this possible? Kelvin knew this woman’s kin, knew she was the offspring of an immortal Warrior. So for her to be human she would have to have two recessive genes.

  And her mother must have had quite a bit of mortal blood in her as well.

  The lass wasn’t lying when she claimed to be different. But did she know just how unique she really was?

  He wouldn’t have relished killing her. Hell, he’d felt kind of bad for her, shaking and crouching in the corner. Taking the life of a meek woman didn’t harbor much pride, yet it had to be done.

  She was the last of the Campbell bloodline and the heir to the Campbell clan, his most hated enemy. The enemy that had taken so much from him. From his brother. She was simply collateral damage he couldn’t help. However, she was also supposed to be a he. And she was the last human. The last full-blooded human in the world.

  Kelvin fought to keep his rage. How could he hesitate? This was Izel Campbell, blood-bound to those who had murdered his kin.

  She reached out, a tear dancing down her flushed cheek. “You!” she gasped. Grabbing his forearm, she yanked him closer, slinging herself against his body.

  Kelvin tensed. This was too much. Her scent, her body, the feel of her fingers on his skin—they awoke something inside of him. His instincts bubbled in his veins with an urge so strong it glowed clearly in his mind.

  My female.

  Some kind of jolt hit Kelvin. For the briefest moment, he could sense Izel, feel her emotions as if they were his own. She was being overwhelmed, smothered from the inside out. Her expression hadn’t lied. He gritted his teeth. Flashes of white-hot light scorched beneath her skin. Kelvin knew this because, for a split second, he was feeling them with her, emotions so raw and strong they tore at his soul. What was happening?

  “Please, help me,” she whispered, her voice a thread.

  She was shifting, that fact was apparent. But why was he? Somehow, her essence had seeped into his pores, changing him, bonding them.

  He was drawn to this woman, to his enemy.

  He should end her now. Break her neck, and this connection, and move on. But instead, he watched her eyes lock on his own mouth. She quaked against him. Before he could lean in and snag her plump lips between his own, her knees buckled.

  She gave a final gasp, choking as if the air was too thick to swallow. Her striking eyes went sightless, staring past him as if seeing nothing. Her convulsions instantly ceased, and she sagged to the floor.

  Kelvin caught her limp body, clutching her tightly against him.

  Chapter 2

  “I’ve been expecting your call, brother.” Ian Kerr, Kelvin’s older brother, said. “Have you found the Mystic’s base?”

  Kelvin snatched up the female’s bag and went outside. He pressed the cell phone against his ear with his shoulder as he used both hands to unzip Izel’s pack. “Aye, Ian. And I’ve stumbled upon much more than that.”

  How in the bloody hell can I explain to him what just happened when I haven’t a soddin’ clue myself?

  “Kel?” Ian asked, obviously concerned.

  Kelvin rifled through the contents, shoving around various pieces of clothing, when the smoothest fabric he ever felt brushed against his palm. Fisting the material, he yanked it free from the pack and examined it. “I, ah, I…” For the first time in ages, the blunt, harsh-spoken Pookah was struggling to find words. For in his grip were Izel’s black silk panties.

  “Are you all right?” Ian’s words piqued.

  “I’m fine. I just… I found the McCall.” He shook his head and stuffed the sleek underwear back into the pack. He would not think of how perfect the human’s ass would look lined with such a garment.

  “So you killed the last son of Campbell,” Ian crowed.

  Kelvin ran a palm along his forehead. “Well, no’ exactly.”

  “So you captured him,” Ian stated with unquestionable faith.

  Kelvin looked over his shoulder at the cottage. He could still smell her—

  “Christ, Kel, what the hell is goin’ on?”

  “Well”—still scouring through her belongings, he pulled free her wallet—“for starters, the first son of Campbell is a daughter,” he said as he slipped her driver’s license from the wallet pocket.

  “That’s impossible,” Ian scoffed. “Nay ever been a female firstborn to the Campbells.”

  “I know.” He scanned her New York ID. He shouldn’t be surprised that she lived on the Upper East Side. Euan Campbell was a rich son of a bitch, after all. “But that’s the least of my problems at the moment.”

  Ian was mute; his expectation was simple and concrete. Campbell Fionns were enemies and were to be killed on sight. Ian’s silence was challenging Kelvin’s actions, or rather, the lack thereof.

  He continued to look through her wallet, finding credit cards, a Fionnic College of Arts student ID, some small rectangles with various stamps on them, and a single photograph. His voice rougher than it had been a moment ago, Kelvin gazed at the picture and said, “I can’t kill her, Ian. She’s mortal.”

  There, he’d finally said it. Izel Campbell, the Fionn McCall, his most hated enemy, was a human. A female human. Not to mention the last human. It sounded ludicrous out loud, even to Kelvin.

  He tilted his head, appraising the small photo he currently held. It was of Izel and two other females. They were all wearing FCA T-shirts and smiling. However, Izel’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. A sharp pain seared his chest as he recalled her words. The lass had said she never felt emotion until today.

  Once her body had discarded the magical influence concealing her, the scent of her entire being bombarded him. In that one brief moment, she had become a part of him. Her blood, body, perhaps even her mind, were untainted. Kelvin knew this, had felt it firsthand.

  Whatever had come over him, whatever force had allowed him to feel Izel, Kelvin knew that magic had to be the reason behind it. It was the only logical explanation. But the lass was human. She had no powers. And Kelvin’s main traits were his unearthly strength and superior senses. It stood to reason that something else was at work here, and Kelvin needed to find out what.

  “If she is human, how has she been walking around this entire time?” Ian sounded skeptical. “There’s no way she’d have survived. The Vamps alone would have sucked her dry by now.”

  “You’d be right, br
other, if she had been a human this whole time. She’d been disguised by some type of mystical glamour. I was about ta take her head when she started convulsin’ and changed form right there on my sword.”

  “Wait! You almost killed the last mortal?”

  Kelvin flinched and stuffed everything back into the pack. He wouldn’t have reveled in killing Izel in her Fionn state and never wanted to in the first place. She was the enemy, and a Pookah never hesitated in the eye of an enemy.

  So why the hell did Kelvin still feel the need to defend himself? Yes, the woman was a Campbell, but she was also the purest form of humanity. Only a barbarian would single-handedly wipe out the last mortal.

  Maybe that’s what I am.

  Hell, he’d spent his countless lifetimes striving for such a label. He warred, maimed, killed, took life with little thought beyond duty and honor, and he loved it. Yet today, when faced with his most hated enemy, he had hesitated.

  “Kel, tell me everything. Exactly what happened,” Ian commanded.

  With a deep, annoyed breath, Kelvin recounted the last few hours, deciding to leave out the tiny detail about recognizing her as his fated female. Luckily, he was still in denial about that. And through it all, there was still no sign of Euan Campbell.

  “This makes no sense,” Ian finally muttered.

  “No shite,” Kelvin agreed mockingly.

  “The Campbell McCall is said to be all-powerful. A prophecy has been predicted for him—”

  “Her.” Kelvin corrected.

  “Aye, her. Although the prophecy is vague, I’ve gathered that this lass is supposed ta come into realm-defying powers, but she’s still the heir to the Campbell clan. Being a female, we could manipulate her much more easily and gain perhaps more control with her life than her death.”

  A ping of fire rose in Kelvin’s stomach. The thought of the mortal’s death bothered him. Why did he care? He’d made a vow over the rotting corpse of his father to end her! But just the thought of tasting her olive skin and sucking on those crimson lips made his cock throb. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a female this badly.

  He wiped his mouth with his hand and licked his teeth. He was only reacting to her because he hadn’t taken release in a while. That and the darkness were weighing on him. His kind was influenced by the night, thrived in it.

  Yes, that made sense. Being on the hunt for the Mystic left Kelvin little personal time. Although he’d been assured that Euan Campbell had passed to another realm, Kelvin had spent the last twelve months searching the earth, high and low, to be certain. It’s been a long sodding year.

  He vowed that the first thing he’d do upon returning to Kerr territory was a lot of women.

  “Aside from her being a Campbell, and heir to the clan,” Ian continued, “she is a human. Best guess is the Mystic had something ta do with that.”

  A lightbulb went on in Kelvin’s mind at Ian’s words. Euan Campbell, the ancient fuck, was one of the, if not the, oldest, most powerful Mystic Fionns known. He could have easily cloaked Izel in a glamour.

  “Until we know more, we cannot make any rash decisions,” Ian said, and Kelvin heard his brother exhale loudly before continuing. “The Court of Contention is comin’ up. Now is not the time to test prophecies set forth by the Dryads.”

  The Dryads were a force one did not fuck with, unless you wanted fate to turn your life ass-upward. Twenty-five years ago, the Kerrs had gotten wind that a prediction of power had been made about the Campbell McCall. It was not long after the news spread that Euan and the first son of Campbell disappeared.

  For the last quarter of a century, Kelvin and his men had been looking for an immortal Fionn male. He glanced over his shoulder again. Izel Campbell, with her emerald eyes and mortal scent, was the last thing he expected to find.

  “Bring her here,” Ian ordered.

  Kelvin smiled not because he was excited to spend time with her; he was just glad he didn’t have to kill her. Messy cleanup and all that.

  “Where is she now?” Ian asked.

  “She passed out and I set her on the bed. I think what’er she went through was a shock to her system.”

  “I don’t doubt that. If the Mystic did, in fact, have her under some kind of spell, she probably got a rush of more than one strong emotion. It was a trait in humans to mentally shut down when they got overwhelmed.”

  Kelvin thought about this for a moment. If Izel had been influenced by magic since birth, her whole being would have been altered. And when the enchantment wore off, it would be like thinking, breathing, and feeling for the first time. The memory of her pulling at her shirt flickered in his mind. She was feeling for the first time.

  Not that he cared. She was nothing to him… other than his mate. No, no he couldn’t be certain of that, not yet at least. Denial truly was a beautiful thing. Either way, the situation could be rectified. Just because fate decreed Izel his fated female didn’t mean Kelvin had to accept it.

  “I need ya ta get her to our castle. I’ll consult with Ryo and see what I can find out,” Ian said.

  Kelvin looked to the night sky, exhaling loudly. Ryo. The witch they had on retainer. A twenty-eight-year-old mouthy blonde who took nothing seriously and yet she was eerily dynamic.

  “Though our kind has an instinctual lust, blood doesn’t call to our hunger for sustenance. Make sure she knows this and understands that her life is in your hands. For if any other creature, especially a vamp, catches the scent of her, she’ll be eviscerated in seconds.”

  “Aye.” Kelvin knew all this, and yet, somehow hearing his brother’s blatant statement of the facts made his chest tighten. A deep heat pumped through his veins. The need to keep her safe overwhelmed him.

  “How much does she know?” Ian asked.

  “I donna know.”

  “Could she know of her prophecy or of our clan’s rivalry?”

  Kelvin’s grip tightened on the phone as he paced outside the cabin. “I donna know, Ian!”

  “Then it’s best you find out, Kelvin. The less she knows the better. Now is a good time to practice your soft ’n’ sweet side—”

  “I don’t have a sodding soft side,” Kelvin barked.

  Ian chuckled, “No shite?”

  Real funny.

  “Stay away from towns, creatures, anything and anyone. You’re gonna have to get her here the hard way, Kel.”

  Kelvin palmed the back of his neck and mentally mapped the foot route to the Kerr castle. “Goin’ through the Scottish countryside with a human in tow is gonna take me a few days.”

  “Aye, and be sure to remember she’s a human. Fragile, their kind is. I’ll dig up as much as I can while you journey back and I’ll have some answers for you when you arrive. You know the Solstice is only a few days out.” Ian’s concern was obvious, and he wished he could lie to his brother better.

  Kelvin’s breed, Razorback Pookah, was affected by the darkness. And with the lengthening winter nights, control over his inner beast was slowly slipping away from him.

  “I’ll have her back in time. Nay to worry.”

  Kelvin and his brother were the only surviving offspring of Cesan Kerr. After their father was killed by the Campbell clan, Ian, being the firstborn, had taken over with grace and valor as he had been brought up to do. Ian always grew anxious over any move Kelvin made, which annoyed Kelvin to no end. Pookahs were arguably the strongest immortals in the realm, and when they surrendered to the animal within they were simply terrifying. Maybe that’s what worried Ian the most.

  Kelvin shifted his weight, hopping on his toes.

  “Kelvin?”

  “I know, Ian!” he bit out, his temper rising.

  “Look, this isn’t stupid banter I’m givin’. You’ve no’ found your female yet, and with the darkness comes lack of control. The human should be untouched, in every way, ’til we know more. Do you understand me?”

  He hated being talked down to. He also hated that he had found his female and was unable to tell his bro
ther. Although he rarely looked beyond war and strategy, Kelvin had thought the day he did finally find his mate would be a day of pride. He’d scent her skin, see home in her eyes, and truly be at peace. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

  “Aye, brother.” Kelvin didn’t need a babysitter. He was a fierce warrior, goddamn it. Battle Chief of the Kerr army, for fuck’s sake!

  “Be well, brother.”

  Kelvin snapped his cell shut, his mind choked with anguish. He slowed his pace, stopping in front of the window. Peering in, he found Izel lying on the bed, still unconscious.

  Sprawled out on the mattress, her breasts nearly jutted out of her bra as her chest rose and fell with each breath. Her lean torso was sun-kissed, and dark jeans that once barely stayed up around her slim frame now clung to her newer, fuller curves. He ran a hand over his mouth as he raked his gaze over her flat belly and flaring hips.

  God help me…

  Duty calls, Ryo thought as she strutted down a long hall of the Kerr castle, heading toward Ian’s chambers. Would it kill the Pookahs to incorporate some color in this joint? Yes, the castle was modernized, but seriously, ever heard of pastel?

  She leaned against the open door frame of Ian’s room. “You wanted to speak with me?”

  Confusion plagued the Pookah’s face. When would they learn that she was all-awesome and could see into the future? Well, kind of.

  “Aye. It’s regarding Kelvin.”

  She lifted a long platinum lock of hair off her shoulder and examined it in front of her. “Uh-huh.”

  “He has the McCall, except he is a she, and she appears ta be—”

  “Human.” She interrupted with a yawn. Tell me something I don’t know, Pookah.

  His brows drew close. “Aye, human. I need information. She’s said ta have a prophecy, set by the Dryads.”

  “Oh, the mortal has much more than that.” She dropped her hair from her fingers, making a mental note to schedule an appointment with her stylist. I could pull off red hair.

  Ian was practically leering a hole through her.