Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)

by Heather R. Blair

  “You can let me go now…don’t you think?” Heather's voice was tentative. She felt way off balance—ha, ha—in more ways than one. She didn’t understand what she’d seen and heard and wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Heather doubted her 'wants' were going to have much bearing in the matter.

  Whoever….whatever that man had been in her room, she knew he wasn’t done with Aidan yet. Of course, none of that had anything to do with her.

  As someone who wasn’t often wrong, Heather decided later that, all things considered, she could be forgiven for just how amazingly, brilliantly wrong she would be about that.

  Aidan placed her back on her feet without a word. He cursed impatiently when she had to hang on to him because her trembling legs wouldn't hold her weight.

  “Leave off, I’ve gotta think!” Roughly, he picked her up and set her against a nearby tree with a warning look. "And donna talk fer a fair bit. We've no' time for explanations jus' now."

  She grabbed the side of the tree to avoid falling in the brambles as he stalked away.

  Heather figured Aidan was as badly shaken as she was, but where she was weak with fear and confusion, he was furious with it. The air about him positively vibrated as he paced, muttering to himself.

  “Bad idea. Right fucking bad idea. Shouldna have come here. Damme. Ronan will no’ thank me for bringing this shite to his doorstep—“

  “Aye, tha' he will nae, brother. O' course, I knew something were coming already. Yer just bonus shite.”

  Heather couldn’t help the short scream that escaped her as a huge chunk of night seemed to detach itself from the darkness around them. It was a man—an enormous man—with dark hair and eyes like grey smoke that drifted at her before going back to Aidan.

  Neither man said anything for a long moment. Heather’s heart pounded. A muscle in Aidan’s jaw ticked in and out. When he finally spoke, it was one harsh word.

  “How?”

  “This, o’ course.” With a casual movement the man reached to the nape of his neck as if to smooth his longish hair, but instead pulled a gleaming sword from, what looked to Heather, to be thin air. The sword was huge, a fitting match for the man who held the wicked point lazily in the air a few inches from Aidan’s chest.

  Without thinking, Heather stepped forward, “Stay away from him!”

  Both men turned to her in tandem, with expressions that flickered from surprise to amusement so identically in sync it was almost comical.

  “Cad é seo?” The big man laughed in amazement, a rumbling chuckle that Heather was sure shook the tree she was leaning against. “Oy, Aidan! Have ye turned so delicate a lass needs to defend ye?”

  Aidan punched the stranger negligently in the shoulder, though she noticed the blow was hard enough to rock the much heavier man back on his heels. Now that anger had displaced some of her panic, Heather could see Aidan was a bit taller than the enormous man, if much slimmer. Both were powerfully built. Just in very different ways. It was as if Aidan was the panther and this man the bear….

  No.

  Wolf.

  She didn’t know why, but 'wolf' definitely fit this one. Aidan’s eyes darkened as he shot her a look. Then he shrugged, his curls silver in the moonlight.

  “Ronan, Heather. Heather, Ronan. I left Abhartach less than half an hour ago, mate.”

  “Aye, tha’s about when the sword turned up. Almost knocked us outta bed…though—”

  “Oh hush yerself, I donna want a replay of what ye and Lacey were up to, for god’s sake. Unless ye can edit yerself out. Ye know yer bare arse has n'ver done it for me, Ronan.”

  Heather straightened. Ronan. Lacey. Ronan’s Lacey. Her eyes sought Aidan’s face and he shook his head once, sharply. “There is nae time, love. Naught at all.”

  “No' so, my love.” The voice that cut through the air was smooth as silk and just as slippery. There was a crackle in the night, as if invisible lightning had struck the clearing. The hair on Heather’s arms prickled.

  A woman in white had appeared. Like the sword.

  From thin air.

  A simply gorgeous woman with a riot of flaming red curls. She was illuminated by a soft glow from head to heels, every perfect, rounded curve highlighted in the hooded silk robe she wore, which was all she wore, obviously, as the robe was translucent.

  Heather slid to the ground, unmindful of the dampness of the grass seeping through her jeans.

  The woman only had eyes for Aidan.

  “Bav.” Aidan’s tone sounded sour to Heather’s ears, but she couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment, because she was close to fainting. Where the hell had the woman come from? “What news have ye?”

  “Abhartach willna attack here, he dare no' touch the Fitzpatricks unless he wants to risk all-out war with Lugh. He is nae tha' stupid. 'Twas wise to come here, but he knows ye must leave eventually, Aidan. He has retreated to the Reeks. For a time. I’ve no idea why he thought ye’d come peacefully.”

  “He never did.” Aidan’s tone was sarcastic now. “Someone told him I was there and he came. No' because he thought I would go with him, but for something else. Mayhap to feel out why I came home, mayhap to put me on edge. I donna know. Yet. He'll have something up his sleeve, though. Ye know how the sick bastard is.

  "In fact…was it ye who told him where I was, Bav?” The sarcasm turned to a chill flatness that made Heather shiver.

  The woman looked furious and hurt. Her green eyes blazed, and glistened. “How could you ever? Ye know—“

  “Aye, Bav, I know too well. Nothing is beyond ye, woman, ye’ve proved tha' time and time again. Ye sold me to him once before. What’s to stop ye from doing it again?” Aidan’s own eyes were icy as he and the woman stared each other down.

  “I am here to help, Aidan. The same as before, as always. Please—”

  Aidan laughed, a cruel, humorless sound that made Heather ill. “Help? I know yer kind of 'help'. Death, blood, fire and heartbreak. 'Tis all ye’ve ever been good for. Leave me in peace, Bav and take your cursed ‘help’ with ye!”

  “Tha' isna fair—“

  “Ye dare, dare to speak of fair to me?! Ronan, give me tha' bloody sword!” When the dark man didn’t move, Aidan snatched the weapon from his hands.

  There was a moment when the sword seemed to tremble in Aidan’s grip—as if a powerful magnet was pulling the point back to the earth against his will—but the moment passed. The blade came up, glittering in the moonlight. The tip hovered at the woman’s throat. She looked as if she might faint.

  “Ye would never,” she breathed.

  “Wouldna I?” Aidan’s eyes gleamed just like the sword.

  Not a word was spoken. The branches of the trees hissed high above in the night breeze. Heather’s own heart thudded in her ears as her fingers clung to the wet grass.

  The red-haired woman turned pleadingly to the big man. Ronan.

  “I helped yer woman, didn’t I? I saved her.”

  He cleared his throat, appearing at a loss. “Aye, tha' ye did, my lady. I will n'ver forget it—ye can be damme sure of tha'—but I know well what Aidan canna n’ver forget, too. Let it be, Bav. At least for this night.”

  There was another tense moment of silence. With a despairing look at Aidan, who lifted his chin and gave her a hard stare, the woman vanished in a streak of emerald flame.

  Heather made a soft sound of disbelief. What the hell had just happened here? Her vision sparkled with a riot of mad, swirling lights and her breath came short and fast.

  It was just too much, way too fucking much.

  When Heather went over sideways, she heard Aidan’s sigh. She barely registered him lifting her to his shoulder after he passed the sword back to the other man.

  “Ye’ve no brains at all, O’Neill! Pissing Bav off innit wise, especially—”

  “And ye know better than most why I could give a rat’s arse about Bav and her bloody feelings.”

  “Aye. But when dealing with gods it’s better to use yer head than y
er heart, mate. Who is it taught me tha' one, eh?”

  It was at that point that Heather lost the thread of the conversation completely. Her eyes closed and the world went dark.

  Next thing she knew, someone was shouting in what had to be rapid-fire Gaelic. It made Heather wince and turn her head away.

  A cool hand brushed her forehead.

  “You two! Take it outside, goddamn it!” The furious half-whisper had her muddled brain whirling. Heather knew that voice, and that tone all too well.

  “Lace?” She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up.

  She was lying on an enormous bed, in a room lit only by a hearth dancing with flame. Aidan and the man Ronan stood in front of the fire, both having frozen sheepishly at her friend’s sharp tone.

  “We canna go out, luchóg. 'Tis too close to sunrise…and tha’s another thing, O’Neill! Where’s the damme potion, eh? Yer thieving arse—”

  “Leave Aidan’s arse out of it and get up to the big house now. Both of you!” Lacey’s big, gorgeous eyes were blazing as she shooed them out with a determination Heather had rarely seen in her friend. When pressed, though, Lacey could be quite a force of nature—not unlike her big sister. Kate was just far more irritating and less adorable about it.

  Lacey looked ridiculously tiny shoving the two towering men towards the door.

  “You have time if you make it snappy. Best to get Aidan under proper cover anyway. He can stay in the library. There’s no windows in there, so it’ll be safe enough. If you want to yell at each other then, go right ahead, but you’ll be answering to Moiré. She’s scarier than me.”

  “No' by much,” Ronan said, cupping Lacey’s chin in an enormous hand, “Ye’re purely terrifying when yer pissed.” His face was so full of teasing love that Heather could only gape, then turn away when he kissed Lacey. It was a quick kiss but so thorough her friend was blushing before he released her.

  “I need to talk to Heather without you two hulking around.” Lacey’s words were soft in the big man’s ear, but Heather caught them.

  “I don’t ‘hulk’.”

  “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  “Ye want a mirror, we can get a mirror. I think a nice, big one would look right fine over the bed—”

  “Ronan, fer gods' sake,” Aidan interrupted.

  “He’s turning into such a bloody nag.” Ronan nuzzled Lacey’s neck as she giggled, then pushed him out the door at Aidan’s next words.

  “This nag is going vanish in a ball of fiery ash, mate, if you donna move yer horny arse…”

  “Well, now, why donna ye just take some more of tha' potion—ye remember, the one tha' ye stole from me? Ye cábúnach—”

  “Oh shut it, ye eejit lunatic. I thought we were mates. And here yer gonna watch me burn just to steal a kiss from yer woman…”

  Their voices moved off.

  “They really love each other, you know.” Lacey’s voice was fond as she watched the two men walk down the white stone path that curved away into the fading night.

  “Seems there’s love in the air.” Heather’s tone was accusing, but she couldn’t help it. Lacey was her best friend. She didn't understand any of this, not the least of which was what might be between Lacey and that big beast of a man.

  Lacey shut the door and turned around, regarding her with those bright eyes that always saw way too much.

  “I wasn’t hiding him from you, sweetie. I just didn’t know how to explain…to tell you…Shit, Heather! You have no idea what kind of crazy stuff has happened to me since I came to Ireland.”

  Heather started laughing. And laughing. She couldn't stop. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Lacey stared at her with her mouth open. A moment later, an understanding smile stretched her face and she started to giggle. “I guess Aidan has shown you some of the ‘sights’ then.”

  Heather gasped for air. “You could say that! Damn it, come here and give me a hug. Then we’ll share crazies and decide who is the most certifiable.”

  “I’ll win,” Lacey said confidently as she dropped to her knees by Heather and they wrapped their arms around each other.

  “I doubt it,” Heather whispered in her ear, real tears threatening as she squeezed the person she loved best in the entire world. “I think I saw a…a demon tonight.”

  “Seriously? Is that the best you can do? I've seen about a hundred of them. And I'm dating a werewolf. Former werewolf. Actually, we’re kind of getting married.”

  Heather jerked back, her hands on Lacey’s shoulders, speechless. Her friend smiled that sweet, knowing smile of hers.

  “Told you I’d win.”

  An hour later, Heather was sitting Indian-style across from Lacey on a big, furry rug in front of the fire, inhaling and wondering if someone had snuck a few pounds of high-grade bud in with the peat. Heather tried to wrap her head around all that she’d just heard.

  Her best friend had died last week. She had literally died in a cavern full of demons intent on using her blood to break the curse that had made her lover, Ronan, a werewolf. For centuries. Trapping both him and his family outside of time. Lacey had only been given a new lease on life because of that red-headed woman Aidan hated so much.

  According to Lacey, that same woman was the Celtic goddess of death.

  “That’s insane! And there are three of her?!”

  “Yeah,” Lacey said, munching on some chips she had pulled from Ronan’s desk. “It's the classic goddess trilogy; maiden, mother—or in her case—seductress, and crone. Anu, Bav and Machu. I haven’t met the others yet, though. Only Bav.”

  “She was quite enough for me.” Heather shook her head when Lacey offered her the chips. She should have been starving, but her stomach was in too many knots to try and force food into it.

  My love, the goddess had called Aidan. “I think…it seemed like her and Aidan have quite the history. Not to mention she came off as a bit of a bitch.” Heather knew that was probably unfair but, oh well. “A whiny bitch at that.”

  Lacey hesitated. “She saved my life, Heather.”

  “I know.” Heather’s tone said it all.

  “Yeah,” Lacey nibbled her lower lip anxiously. “I'm not saying that doesn’t make her a bitch. Ronan has said some things...”

  “What things?”

  “I don’t know much about it really, but I know that Aidan…. Well, he has had a terrible time. These gods of theirs—” Lacey shuddered and shook her bright coppery head. “They’re awful…wonderful, too. At times.” She added this last bit as if an afterthought, but Heather saw her head dart around. As if Lacey thought someone might be listening over her shoulder. That move made Heather grimace and get to her feet.

  “Are we really sitting here talking about ‘gods’ for fuck’s sake? Like they're real?”

  “They are real, Heather.” Lacey’s voice was quiet but firm.

  Heather whirled to face her tiny friend, ready to shout or scream, but the look of sympathetic understanding on Lacey’s face made her shoulders slump.

  Green fire, glowing bodies, glowing eyes, and dead black smiles with impossible teeth…

  Either what Lacey was saying—and the evidence of her own eyes—was true, or she was losing what was left of her mind. Aidan crashing through that wall…the wall of a building. Surely, no man, no matter how strong—

  —‘too close to sunrise…no windows…safer.’

  “Lacey, what is Aidan?”

  Lacey started chewing her lip again and turned away, but Heather spun her back around. “Lacey?!”

  “Well, he’s…he’s a…damn. Aidan's a vampire, Heather. Think about everything you've seen. Carefully. And tell me, do you honestly not feel it when he's around?”

  The room started to spin again. Lacey guided her patiently back to the bed. Heather sat down hard and put her head between her knees. A vampire.

  She'd had a torrid three-ish night stand with a goddamn vampire. Holy shit. It was a moment before she could lift her head again.<
br />
  “Feel what, Lace? What do you feel when Aidan is around?”

  Lacey sighed and took a seat beside her on the mattress, running her fingers over the tangled bedspread. “Well, I don’t feel it always. Only when he's really angry or tired. And since he’s been that way, most of the time, since I met him… Fear, Heather. Cold fear, like someone is running ice down your bare spine. Don’t you feel it?”

  Heather stared at her friend as she considered this.

  Fear. Hmm…

  Well, sure, maybe a little. Particularly when they had first met. She shivered as she thought of his eyes when he’d first looked down at her in that Turkish café. There had been a touch of fear then, but….

  If she was brutally honest with herself, Heather knew that her defining emotion around Aidan was lust. Pure and simple.

  It kinda burned away everything else, aside from the occasional burst of anger—which was often brought on by that same lust, along with Aidan’s own cocky ass attitude. She resisted the urge to laugh and then thought of something that totally didn’t make sense. Not if what Lacey had said was true.

  “I saw him this morning though, outside. In the sunlight. Right after dawn, I kind of…hit him with my car.”

  “Well, that’s another story. There’s this po…. Wait. You hit him with a car?!”

  “Yeah. He walked right out in front of me. I hit the brakes, but it was too late. I thought I’d killed him, though I didn’t really know it was him. Not at the time. I don’t think I wanted to know it was him.”

  Lacey frowned. “Heather, where do you know Aidan from? How the hell did you two met anyway?”

  Heather tried not to blush, but it was impossible. Not under the scrutiny from those blue-green eyes that knew her better than anyone else on earth.

  “We, uhhh… well, we met in a bar. In Istanbul. I…got antsy, you know. I needed a break…took a couple of days from the shoot—“

  “Are you okay?” Immediately dismissing anything else, those eyes went warm with concern. That old familiar concern. Lacey knew her alright.