Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)

by Heather R. Blair

  For Áedán, it was not so easily dismissed.

  "O' course I tell her tales of Lir, Áedán! Himself is the god of my people, after all." Eunys was shaking her head as she bustled around the little cottage putting their small supper together later. "She knows every story, could recite them in her sleep, I shouldna wonder! Ye know how children are. Gods, lad, it were nae so terrible long ago, I'd wager, tha' ye were the same."

  He almost smiled at that. Aye, he knew children and their love for tales. But this was different. Children shouldn't meet their stories.

  "She said she spoke to him."

  "Did she now?" Eunys seemed amused, turning to the fire again. "Come now, milord, 'tis only a child's fancy—"

  "A fancy tha' told her to call him Mac? Tha' mine own eyes saw wave at her this night?"

  He didn't miss the way her hand tightened on the spoon, or the slight hesitation before she continued ladling out his stew. "Mind, I suppose 'tis possible. I've heard stories of such things. She plays on the beach with the other children some days. I have only seen him from a distance meself…once or twice."

  "Watching her?"

  She shrugged. "Watching the village, mayhap. And if no'…well, Lir has taken a wee interest, it seems. 'Tis a blessing, Áedán. Naught a thing to be putting such worry in yer eyes."

  "Is it, is it a blessing when gods take an interest in us, Eunys?"

  She frowned at him and tore off a hunk of bread, pressing it into his hand before she answered. It was warm and smelled like heaven, but his appetite had flown.

  "Well, now. I suppose tha' depends on the god, now wouldna it? But I can tell ye, a sighting of Lir is well thought in Manx, a thing to bring good luck and fortune. There are no bad tales of tha' one, nae on our island, milord."

  Áedán nodded, but the unease stayed with him.

  Isleen fell asleep on his chest, a warm, soft weight. Both of them curled together in front of the fire. He'd shaken his head when Eunys reached for the girl. The older woman had only sighed and then went off to her bed. It was a long time before he slept, the fire crackling in his ears and the sea like a whisper in the back of his mind.

  When he woke, his daughter's curls were tickling his nose. They said their goodbyes not long later. She wouldna cry anymore when he left. She always tried to be brave now that she was 'big'. But her eyes shone with unshed tears as she pressed something hard and prickly into his hand.

  "What's this then?" He started to open his fingers but she grabbed his hands in both of her tiny ones.

  "'Tis for if yer lonely, Da…or if ye need help. Just whisper in it, and he'll come. He promised me." Her mouth trembled and Aidan's heart clenched. He knew exactly who 'he' must be.

  "A chuid den tsaol, he meant it for ye then, no' me."

  She smiled, her little bow mouth trembling. "Maman said I canna only give what is mine, and this was mine, and now tis yers."

  He shook his head at her stubborn tone, tapping her nose with his finger, which made her laugh.

  That laugh went with him over the hills. It was only when the sea was out of sight that he uncurled his fingers to see Isleen's gift. It was the tiniest conch he'd ever seen. Small and perfect, pale cream on the outside and blushing deepest rose as it coiled inward. It barely filled the palm of his hand.

  He scowled at it briefly before tucking it away. He would never use it, but it eased his mind that in giving this to him, Isleen had given away her means of communicating with that damme sea god.

  He hoped.

  They had no need of any more gods in their lives. He'd had enough of demons, enough of goddesses, enough already. It was time for a normal life, for them both.

  Áedán kicked his horse into a gallop until he could hear the sea no more.

  The bell came far too soon. The signal for them to attend the king.

  Aidan zipped the back of her dress up, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She didn't know where the simple lavender dress had come from and she hadn't asked. Abhartach's white-haired man had delivered it just an hour ago, right to the door. A door Aidan had slammed in his face before he could get more than a glimpse of Heather.

  "Watch out for tha' one, love." Aidan had told her, but she hadn't needed the warning. She remembered very well the orgasmic look on Declan's face as he had sucked her blood from the demon's fingers.

  Aidan must have felt her shivers. His hands came down on her shoulders, solid and sure. "Ye can do this. I will be right there with ye." He leaned forward, so close his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. Even so, she barely caught his soft words. "One more night, love. Just one."

  A tremor went through her and her spine straightened. There was a plan then. She pressed her lips together and nodded at him in the mirror, trying to hide the hope that suddenly danced in her eyes.

  It wouldn't do to let anyone else down below see that. The king would not be amused.

  Heather looked lovely, too pale yet, but the dusky color of the dress warmed her skin some and lit her eyes with a soft glow. That the glow was mostly fear, Aidan knew. The dress was long and flowing, with tight sleeves that came to a point just over the back of her elegant hands. Not a scar showed, she looked too beautiful and brave to be allowed.

  Aidan could feel her shaking all the way down the stairs. If he could have spared her this, he would have, no matter what the cost. Abhartach hadn't been in the mood to bargain.

  So, the only way out was through.

  The first minute was the worst. The throne room of Du'n Dreach-Fhoula was opulent when contrasted to the dining hall. Black marble pillars veined with red held up the huge, domed ceiling. More red velveted the floor leading to the curved dais. Three steps up to Abhartach's throne, tucked against a sweeping arch in walls gilded with gold. Gold was the only metal the fae did not fear and it was used liberally in this room.

  Candles were lit in every corner, catching the shine and making the room bright despite the blackness of those within it.

  Abhartach sat on his throne, leaning forward, an avid expression on his face when his eyes saw Heather.

  They came to a stop just before the demon, who frowned.

  "Such a deplorable lack of manners. Must we teach you how to properly respect a king, human?"

  Heather turned questioningly to Aidan, he nodded shortly.

  Her hair was up, exposing the back of her graceful neck as she dipped her head to the demon. She looked so delicate just then, so impossibly fragile. As if he needed reminding how frail she was at the moment, how easily she could still be broken.

  Heather had taken one small step towards recovery earlier, but if he didn't protect her, she would slide right back into that black pit.

  It did warm Aidan's heart to see how perfunctory her curtsey was. The small defiance also reminded him of her strength. He took a deep breath and smiled tightly as Abhartach snorted with amusement.

  "She doesn't obey me yet, but she does you. Very well played, my son. Your cock must work better on this one than my knife, eh?"

  From the shadows next to the throne came a soft sound of amusement. Aidan could see the white gleam off Declan's hair as he knelt there, to the right of Abhartach's feet.

  "Perhaps I should give your way a try sometime." Heather slumped into Aidan at the demon's words, she would have fell if he hadn't held her upright. Abhartach grinned, a black slice through the glittering candles. Aidan's stomach tightened. "Or let the daor have a go, hmm? What say you, my son?"

  "Whatever pleases my king." Aidan said the words through stiff lips, his mind calculating fast.

  Abhartach gave a small, unconvinced cough, "Shall we put that to the test?" He waved Declan to his feet. Heather's eyes flew to Aidan's, he squeezed her fingers ever so slightly before stepping aside as the tall man approached.

  Declan was biting his lips nervously, his eyes darting from Heather to Aidan and back again, fear and lust warring and mingling.

  Before he was within arm's length of Heather, Aidan snatched him by the throat, lifting him
into the air with one hand. Declan gurgled, his hands scrambling at Aidan's fingers which only tightened. His feet kicked as his face began to turn purple.

  Abhartach had not moved, he watched Aidan with a half-smile on his face. "Defying me so soon, do you really think that wise?"

  Aidan spat on the floor. "Ye honestly expect me to let a slave touch what is mine?"

  Abhartach smile widened and Aidan knew he had made the right move. "Of course not, that would have been disappointing in the extreme. Do set the daor down, though. I confess myself fond of him."

  Aidan complied, with a careless toss that sent Declan arcing through the air and sliding across the floor, before he crashed against the far wall and lay still. The demon's eyes rested on him for one moment before coming back to Aidan.

  "You care for this one too much."

  "Tha' is what ye counted on all along, is it no'?" Aidan said heavily, wiping his hand on his leg. There was something oily about that white haired man. Something vile. "Ye should be pleased."

  "Oh indeed, I am. So…," he beckoned Heather forward and with a frightened glance at Aidan, she did as the demon bid.

  Aidan's hands fisted at his sides as Abhartach forced her to kneel and then turned her so that she faced Aidan. He pulled the pins from her hair with his yellowed nails one after the other. Heather bowed her head and Aidan saw the tears in her eyes before the dark waves tumbled free.

  The demon pulled her loosened hair back in one hand and raised his eyes to Aidan's. "You will give me your vow tomorrow in this hall, as agreed. In front of everyone, sealed in blood. Or not only will I have her, I will give her in turn to every vampire and human in this castle, down to the lowliest slave…and after, I will see her turned as well."

  He let the threat roll over him, willing himself not to react, even as Heather went went so pale he feared she would pass out. Aidan had to say it, even though he knew it would make no difference. He had to say it, because Abhartach would expect it. "When I make this vow, what is to stop ye from doing the same?"

  Abhartach laughed, a sound that rolled out from the throne and into Aidan's ears like a death toll. "Why, nothing. Nothing at all. But if you don't, it is a certainty. If you do…well, you never know what could happen, do you?"

  Aidan looked into the demon's black eyes and tried to repress the relief in his own. Indeed, you never knew, but by tomorrow night they should be well shut of this place—and Abhartach. Or at least Heather would be.

  He gave a weary, resigned nod he did not have to fake and reached out both hands for Heather, who scurried into his arms, not giving the demon behind her a second look.

  He woke her just before the sun rose, when he could be reasonably sure most of the vampires in the castle would already be under cover. Heather could see the tiredness weighing on him, as so much seemed to weigh on him lately. Aidan had aged in the five days they had been here.

  Of course, she supposed she had as well. She gained a few more years when he whispered the plan in her ear, under cover of them pretending to get hot and heavy in the bathroom.

  She was to go outside to retrieve the potion that they could only hope Daire had set in place yesterday afternoon. They'd had no communication with anyone outside, obviously. Heather's cell phone had been in her dress pocket when she'd ran from the house that night. Miraculously it hadn't been lost or damaged, but the battery was long dead.

  There would be no way to tell if Daire had been successful until she checked.

  She would be tailed, without a doubt. Perhaps stopped, though Aidan thought not. Not so long as she didn't try to leave the immediate grounds. The place that he had told Daire about was next to a rock shaped like an up-thrust tooth, blotched with white lichen that took the shape of a man in profile. It was unmistakable, Aidan assured her, and would be about thirty paces from front doors on her left, hanging off the cliff face.

  "Just sit, as if you need to pull a stone from your shoe, with your back against the man's face, reach into the crack of the 'tooth' and the potion should be there."

  Fifteen minutes later, she stood at the top of the massive marble stairs, looking down into the hall below. She was amazed at how calm she was. Aidan hadn't been amazed. He had been convinced she was going into shock.

  After the third time he'd asked if she was okay, she'd put her fingers to his lips and shushed him.

  Heather knew she wasn't in shock, she was in the grips of sheer fatalism. They had to get out now, before Aidan made that awful vow. To get out they needed the potion. She was going to get the potion. Fuck the castle full of vampires. It would work. It was meant to be.

  Besides the vampires were all asleep now, the sun had come up.

  The humans that lived here were a creepy bunch, too, though. She eased down the stairs, her hand slipping along the cool ebony bannister. Especially that white-haired son of a bitch. It was weird, he should have been good looking with all that pale curly hair and those big blue eyes, but instead he gave her the wiles. Not just because Abhartach had invited him to rape her last night either, or that she'd seen him sucking her blood off of the demon's fingertips. No, there was something even worse in his eyes. Something just wrong.

  She shivered and picked up the pace.

  Not even Declan dared touch her. She was the property of their 'prince', and even if he was a disgraced prince being thoroughly chastised, Aidan said they would not harm her without Abhartach's direct command.

  Outside the castle, Heather walked around a bit before approaching Aidan's rock. She reached for her foot, slipping off her sandal as she eased hersel to the ground, leaning on the rock as if for support. Shaking out her shoe, she sat down.

  It was stunning out here, she didn't have to pretend to be in awe as she stared out over the jagged landscape. Blue mountains stabbed into bluer skies. Grey rocks tumbled down steep slopes and over broken cliffs, like the one the castle backed into.

  Her hand groped surreptitiously in the crack Aidan had described. The grass was thick and wet, the stone rough and cold. Her fingers closed over the small, damp bundle just as she felt someone settle down on the ground next to her. Her heart seemed to jump into her throat and cling there, beating madly, almost choking her.

  Her skin crawled even before she turned her head and saw who it was.

  Declan. Freak boy. Fuck.

  Her heart was pounding as she drew her hand with its precious contents closer to her body. At the same time she scooted away from him, not bothering to hide her disgust.

  “Go away, slimeball.”

  He shook his head, those pale curls almost translucent in the light. His eyes were greedy as they stole over her.

  “You really shouldn't be out of the castle on your own. If you choose to stay out here, I'll be accompanying you.”

  “I'll just go back in then, shall I?”

  She moved to get up, but he shifted suddenly, not touching her, but using his bigger body to block her movement. Heather shrank from coming into contact with him, however inadvertently.

  She sat back, glaring up at him in momentary defeat. He smiled. His eyes might be blue, but they held the dead flatness of a shark’s.

  “That was a quite short walk."

  Her pulse roared in her ears, but she ignored it. He suspected something, but she could fool him. She would get the potion back inside to Aidan so they could get the hell out of here.

  As long as she could be strong. Or bitchy. Bitchy had always served her well, hadn't it?

  “Well, I was looking for some fresh air, but now the smell is really getting to me.” Her lips curled, but he only snickered.

  “Petty insults don’t much bother me.” He leaned closer, but Heather stopped drawing back, tired of his attempt to intimidate her.

  “I don't think you really should be bothering me. Your master may not approve.”

  His eyes shone. “On the contrary, my master encouraged me to seek you out should you leave your room alone. I confess I thought it unlikely. That you would be too…ind
isposed to do so. That perhaps our prince had even forbid it. But here you are…all alone.” His long fingers trailed in the air in front of her, hovering over her body as if he longed to touch, but didn’t quite dare.

  Heather's whole being wanted to cringe, but instead she straightened. “What is your deal, asshole? You seem like Abhartach’s pet cabana boy, but you were all over the opportunity to rape me last night.” Her voice shook slightly, knowingly by the look in those eyes that Declan wanted to do exactly that right now. Obviously though, Abhartach’s orders had not extended to rape at will.

  Yet.

  “Oh, so you're wondering...," he chuckled again, the sound making her head ache. "No, I don’t have any preference on genders, little chit. How boring would that be? Sex,” he rolled the word on his tongue obscenely as he stared at her, "is all about power. Who has it and who doesn’t.

  "I do love power. The feel of submitting to it can be so sublime. Wielding it, though…mmm, that's intoxicating. I was disappointed last night.” He leaned closer until his breath touched her face. “Taking you in front of the prince,” his moan slid into her ear and for a moment Heather was frozen, too horrified to move, “would have been so powerful. Can you imagine his face?”

  Heather went cold inside, a cold that sank into her bones and dug its sharp, little teeth in. For a moment, she felt the drop-off under her feet, the ground slipping away…but then a spark of anger flared.

  “What I remember is the look on your face when Aidan threw you across the room and the sound you made hitting the wall. I ‘imagine’ he will kill you eventually. Or I will.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he laughed. “You? I saw you bleed, I heard you scream…and I will see it all again. The prince is not so good at being obedient, haven’t you noticed? It is only a matter of time before you will be spread out on that table again and perhaps this time I will wield the knife.“

  Heather struck out without thinking, her nails raking Declan’s face in one savage swipe. He howled, recoiling as she pushed off from the ground.