Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)

by Heather R. Blair

  He nibbled the delicate line of her collarbone, finally rewarded with a sigh and her fingers sliding into his hair. “Do you have more?”

  “More?” He ran his hands down her sides until she squirmed. What the hell was she on about?

  “More of the potion, you idiot! Stop trying to seduce me and listen for a minute. How much do you have left?”

  Aidan pulled away and looked down at her crossly. “Some. It dinna take much. But yer mad if ye think I would do it again here. Ronan would have a fit and 'tis his home.”

  Heather’s expression turned considering. “Bav said the other vampires were sitting tight, didn't she?”

  “Aye, for all her word is worth.”

  “And anyway, they are vampires, too. So how are they going to see you if you go out in the day?” Her tone was considering. Aidan dipped his head to hide a smile. She was so utterly naïve.

  “They'll have plenty of human spies, love. 'Tis what Abhartach does.”

  For a second she looked horrified. “But…why wouldn’t they just run away if he lets them move around in the daytime?”

  “Run away?” Aidan laughed, but without much humor. “Gods, think about tha' for a second, Heather. How far exactly do ye think they would be getting before nightfall?”

  She stared up at him as that sunk in.

  “Well, yes, I get the danger. But Ireland’s not that big, Aidan. They could get off the island before sundown easily if they planned it right.”

  “Oh aye, some of them anyway. And no doubt some of them have, those without families or other loved ones he could hold over their heads. Abhartach himself canna cross open water, being fae born and all. But he can send others.”

  “Did he ‘send others’ after you?”

  He smiled coldly. “O' course he did. Only I am nae human, am I? I can take care of meself. Humans donna have a chance against us, Heather. No' at all.”

  He could see her remembering how he had handled the street gang in Istanbul. While Abhartach had basically given up on sending assassins after him several centuries ago—barring the occasional spot check—a human would have little to no chance of escaping his vampire minions unscathed.

  Aidan wasn’t finished. She needed to be forewarned.

  “Most do stay with him, of their own free will, mind.”

  “What?!”

  “Oh donna be so damme innocent, love. Think on it. Ye mentioned the movies before, the books about us and all. There’s some of ye humans who fair on worship vampires.”

  “Perhaps…but you confront even the most die-hard Twilight fan with Abhartach, and I think they would change fandoms in a hurry, Aidan.”

  Aidan chuckled. “Damme so. Even though I have no’ noticed ye running away from me.” He smiled at her in a way that sent a bolt of heat into her lower stomach and irritated the hell out of her.

  “But I am nae talking about that lot. They are harmless enough, they want to be seduced by the dark, be a wee bad. If only in their safe, romanticized ideal of the dark. There is some as donna need it prettied up, though. They like the ugly truth. Haven’t ye ever know someone who would do anything for a bit of power, someone who might actually sell their soul to the devil, if such a thing was possible? If it meant all their twisted little fantasies could come true?”

  She blinked slowly, looking a bit sick. “They work for him because he promises them he will make them vampires?”

  “Now ye’ve got the way of it.”

  “Does he actually make good on that promise?”

  He shrugged. “Rarely. Very rarely. But enough to give them hope. He is a consummate manipulator, love.”

  She sighed. “Okay, okay then. Human spies. I get it. But we’re in the middle of nowhere, aren't we? And Ronan has been patrolling like a madman, no matter what Bav said. He hasn’t seen anyone, or any tracks. I do hear you two talking, you know. And you—even if you do go walking around in daylight with the potion—you’ll still be a damn vampire, right?”

  “O' course.” He looked at her like she was nuts.

  She rolled her eyes and her next words were more than subtly patronizing.

  “So, you would smell them, wouldn’t you? Long before they could see you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, straightening. Almost at once, he shook his head. “Ronan would nae agree. And I said I would no' disrespect him in his own house.”

  “You stole the potion from him in the first place!”

  “Aye. But 'tis different.”

  Heather threw up her hands. “Oh, you know that makes no fucking sense, Aidan!”

  He took her hands in his own. He hadn’t put on his leathers, as he didn’t feel the need to protect himself from psychic clutter as keenly in this house, and she shivered at his touch.

  Aidan knew that shiver had nothing to do with desire. She knew his powers now and felt vulnerable. There was nothing he could do about that.

  It wasn't his intent to violate her privacy, but he couldn’t help feeling the buzz of frustration and concern coming off of her. In addition to something dark and sad hovering beneath that was probably regret. Heather was really beating herself up for messing up his shot at the sun.

  She cared about him. Already.

  Shite.

  His gut tightened again. This time it was harder to shake off. Other than the Fitzpatricks, it’d been a long time since anyone had shown him such concern.

  “Heather,” he used her given name without thinking about it. “It’s grand ye're so keen to help me out, truly it is. I am quare touched.” He swallowed, finding himself off balance and not wanting to show her how much. He dropped her hands and shot her a sarcastic grin. “There will be another day for me. Unless you are thinking of following me with a car, just in case?"

  She looked like she wanted to shake him. “Don’t tempt me. Seriously, Aidan. Wouldn’t this be the best way for you to do this? Here. In a controlled environment, with us, with your friends—”

  Aidan felt something inside him go very still. This he couldn't allow himself to shake off. "Ye including yerself in tha', are ye?"

  Heather watched him tip his head, the way he was regarding her coolly with those quiet crystal eyes. Her mouth went dry. But he didn't bother to wait for her answer.

  “We are nae friends, nobody. Nor will we ever be. Donna make tha' mistake. I donna have friends, Ronan is a…well, he's Ronan." He shrugged. "But I donna have anyone else, and I never will. Tha's the way it has to be."

  "Oh fine, then. You don't need to be so dramatic." She made her tone flippant, even as her stomach knotted and her face flushed. "We’re all grown-ups here. Some more grown up than others, of course."

  He sighed. "Donna take it personal, love."

  How could she take it otherwise? To hide how much it hurt, she arched an eyebrow and gave him a disdainful look. "I bet vampires make terrible friends, anyway."

  There was a flash in those crystal eyes that tightened her heart. In the next breath though, he had to go and be typical.

  “Well, now I donna know. Parts of me are feeling very 'friendly' toward ye at the mo'. Care to feel how friendly?”

  She jumped up from the couch, muttering under her breath.

  He threw her back down, pinning her beneath him in one swift movement. She stared up at him, helpless and pissed. She knew it shouldn't have hurt, what he had said. She had no business letting it hurt. But her eyes stung anyway and she saw Aidan's jaw tighten. Furious, she tried to turn her head before she could something truly pathetic, like cry, but Aidan captured her mouth first. It was a long, violent kiss, a blaze of heat that turned all her anger and hurt into ash.

  The feel of his body, that hard, lean and muscular length, pressing her down into the soft cushions made her shudder. She didn't want to want him, not now, but she couldn’t help it. He'd never kissed her like this before, with an almost cruel desperation. Hot and nipping, his tongue slid against hers, making her whimper. His leg forced hers apart, so that she could feel him throbbing against her.r />
  She gasped when he finally let her up for air, but he obviously wasn't going to stop there.

  Aidan wrapped a hand in her hair, pulling her head back as his mouth trailed down her throat. His lips moved over her skin, "Heather, I—"

  A deep voice rumbled through the hallway. “Not to interrupt or anything—”

  Aidan growled and released her abruptly. “Oh, aye. Piss the fuck off, Fitzpatrick! 'Tis not as if ye take any pleasure from interrupting, at every damme opportunity lately.”

  He sat up, pulling her up next to him. Heather was dizzy and trying her best not to pant. Fuck.

  From Aidan's expression, he was thinking more of the same.

  Ronan’s grey eyes were dancing. “Actually, tha' is definitely my pleasure. A petty one, true, but satisfying n’vertheless. I did want a word, though, about yer conversation earlier.” His expression turned serious.

  Aidan's mouth fell open and he tensed. “Ye adding eavesdropping to being a damme peeping Tom?"

  “Yer one to talk, ye sneaking bloodsucker! But nae, I wasna eavesdropping, at least no’ a purpose. I just caught tha' last bit, the controlled environment part. Ye know, I say the lass has a fair point. One I thought of meself, truth be told.”

  Aidan looked taken a back. “Since when?”

  “Since ye went and stole the bloody stuff and used it anyway! Did ye never consider what ye put me through, taking it?”

  “Look, Ronan, I understand it was stupid to risk being seen, okay? Especially with what did end up happening. Damme, I already said ye were right. I wasn’t thinking straight, I just needed—“

  The bigger man interrupted, his voice rough. “I understand what ye needed. Who better? Am I nae yer friend, ye bloody eejit!? Do ye think I was only worried about ye being seen? Did ye n'ver think I might have been just a wee bit concerned about what could happen to ye—going into the sun like that?! Ye could’ve died, Aidan! For good this time!”

  Heather was sure she couldn’t be the only one to notice how Ronan’s voice had thickened, and the look of shock on Aidan’s flaming face told her she was right.

  “Shite. Ronan. I…I dinna, mate. Tá brón orm, mo dheartháir. Forgive me.”

  Ronan shrugged, even though his face was pale. “Well, haven’t I already?”

  But he did reach out and wrap Aidan in what had to be a bone-crushing hug. Heather swore she heard crackles before Aidan was released.

  Ronan cleared his throat and looked at nothing in particular for a moment before speaking again. “Now that ye went ahead and did the stupid thing and we know it works…well. Maybe ye should have another go. I wanna know everything this bloody stuff can do…and what we should do with it, mind? I still think destroying it is best, but what if there's more, aye? What then? I want to know its limitations, if any.

  "I donna know if Aillen just created it on his own, after all, or if he got it from someone? Who? And she’s right,” Ronan stopped his musings and nodded at Heather. “Ye’re here and Abhartach is showing no signs of coming yet. For whatever reason. So…”

  “So, ye actually want me to take it again?”

  “Are ye game, mate?”

  Aidan’s smile was blinding as he punched Ronan hard in the shoulder. The huge man grunted ruefully.

  “Tha’d be an ‘aye’, I am thinking.”

  Of course, nothing was to happen the coming dawn. Ronan could be a methodical arse when he wanted to be, came of being both a bloody surgeon and an architect in his time. He insisted Aidan needed all the time they could squeeze in to get rested up.

  “We donna know when Abhartach will come and—” he continued on, holding up a hand warningly when Aidan showed signs of interrupting to say that was exactly the point of hurrying up, “—we both know ye need a kill. How long’s it been, Aidan?”

  Heather had long since fallen asleep on the couch, Aidan resisted the urge to look at her before he met his friend’s eyes.

  “A fair bit.”

  “Stop qualifying and tell me.”

  “It was…before Heather. Almost two, three weeks ago now.”

  Ronan raised his eyebrows. “Tha’s playing with fire a bit, innit? Damnú air!”

  “Tarraing mó coileach.”

  “An bhfuil tú féin.”

  Aidan laughed and shook his head. “I rather missed yer insults, ye know.”

  “Aye, so let’s keep ye whole fer awhile longer so I can come up with new ones. I can take ye up to Limerick after sundown tonight. Ye think ye’ll be finding something suitable there alright?”

  “It will do.” Aidan hadn’t always been exactly altruistic with his kills, but he did prefer to take only those who met his two basic qualifications. One, that they could be easily taken without a scene and two, that they had evil of one sort or the other inside them.

  This was the one case where he was fervently glad for his psychic abilities, it made it easier to fight the guilt when he took a life. Not that he felt any actual guilt while killing.

  Hell no.

  The beast inside him took over. Once in the grip of blood lust, the only thing that was hard was stopping at one life.

  It was only later, sometimes years later, when the silence got a little too thick and the souls he had taken a little too restless and started rattling around inside his head.

  Those were the times he was thankful for the measure of peace his ability to read other’s minds gave him. He had seen what had been in their hearts, what they were capable of. And over the years, he was positive he had actually saved more lives than he had taken.

  Not that you could balance the books that way, but it was still in him to try. No matter how ridiculously pathetic it was at this point.

  Ronan was looking out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He straightened.

  “Alright then, I am for bed. Ye kipping in the library again?”

  Aidan shrugged. “’Bout the only place for me, innit? Unless ye and Lacey wanna give up the cabin…”

  Ronan snorted. “I donna love ye tha' much, brother. Probably best to leave Heather here at this point, aye? Mam will no’ let the children wake her too early.”

  Aidan smiled, taking the implied warning easily enough. No more shenanigans in Moiré’s house. At least not out in the open.

  The bloody hypocrite.

  “Aye, I’ll leave her be.”

  For tonight anyway.

  Ronan’s answering frown showed he’d caught the gist of that last thought, even if Aidan hadn’t spoken the words aloud. He shook his head, swatted Aidan on the shoulder once and left.

  Aidan shot a sideways glance at Heather next to him on the couch.

  Her hair was thrown back over one shoulder, some of the soft black waves tangled over her face. Her lips were parted and she was breathing evenly. She had such full lips…the same color of rose that her skin flushed whenever he made her come.

  Unable to resist, he ran his fingertip over her mouth. She sighed and shocked him by whispering his name in her sleep. Aidan stared down at her as he withdrew his hand slowly.

  He wanted to pretend otherwise, but this one was quare different. As he told her once before, half in jest. But he had realized that even in Istanbul. Heather was different.

  It had become bloody apparent when he’d had that godawful dream of Ronan and woken up to leave. Shaken to the core, terrified for his friend, angry with Bav and not a wee bit conflicted about stepping foot on Irish soil for the first time in several centuries.

  Any other woman, any other of a hundred different years and under circumstances far less dire, he would have left without a backwards glance.

  He had done more than look back with Heather. He had sat on the bed next to her and watched her sleep for several long moments, like he was right now. Finally he had given in to weakness and kissed her goodbye. Softly enough not to wake her up, but trying to memorize the satiny imprint of her lips on his just the same. His reluctance to leave had at last pissed him off enough he’d stomped out in a fury, shoving
her ruthlessly out of his mind.

  He’d left people before, people he’d cared about far more than her. It should have been easy.

  But it hadn’t been. Not even then. And now…

  Now it would be harder. He still had it to do, though, and probably very soon.

  Aidan cocked his head. She had tried to say she was his friend. Her words had sunk a hard, little fist in his gut, and he'd gotten pissed. He didn’t like the way it made him feel.

  He didn't like being scared.

  There was a reason he didn’t have friends, he couldn’t have people he cared about in his life. It wasn't safe.

  Ronan, and the Fitzpatricks were different. Ronan first, because once upon a time he'd been a monster, too. Even though he wasn’t now, Ronan was still far more capable of protecting his family than an ordinary human. There was also the fact the Fitzpatricks enjoyed the protection of being beloved by Lugh, their far distant ancestor through his bastard son, Cúchulainn. There weren’t many who would risk Lugh’s displeasure outright.

  Heather enjoyed no such favor. When she left this house, she would be a target simply because Abhartach had seen her with him. It was very important Abhartach not get ideas about her.

  Aidan knew what happened when vampire king got ideas about people he cared about.

  So…he simply wouldn’t let himself care for her. He’d fuck her, sure enough. Let her think they were whatever the hell she wanted to think. And as soon as possible he'd leave, without a second thought. Fine.

  No problem.

  Aidan started to get to his feet, but Heather stirred at the movement and opened her eyes.

  She smiled at him as she curled onto her side. A sweet, unaffected smile that was so different from the one on her cover shots, but that went straight to his heart.

  “Go back to sleep,” he ordered roughly, throwing the afghan that had slipped down to her legs back over her.

  He remembered the first time he had seen that smile. In Istanbul, the second night he’d woken up in her bed. He's been surprised as shite to find himself still there, and still wanting to be there. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed, half turned away from him, finger combing the tangles out of her wavy dark hair. Tangles he had put there. She had this look on her face, an expression between solemn and sad, but somehow neither.