Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)

by Heather R. Blair

He knew the answer to that question. Knew what it had to be. He just hadn't wanted to face that part yet. The sea god stood there, waiting with seeming indifference until the fight drained out of Áedán.

  "Nae. O' course no'. I'll…I'll never see her again. I canna risk it. No' with what I am."

  "Aye." Mac nodded decisively. He stepped forward and shocked Áedán by gripping his shoulder once, in a hard, firm grip. "Make haste then, ye've only a few hours 'til dawn."

  With that he vanished. It was a few moments before Mac's words sunk in to Áedán's battered mind. With Isleen safe, he was…he could be free. At least of Aberhartach.

  Couldn't he?

  The castle was black, cold and foreboding in the grey afternoon light, just as Heather remembered. Bav had been confident she would be able to see it, and the goddess had been right. It waited for her like some undead beast. No, that was the creature inside, she thought, pressing her lips together.

  I can’t do this.

  Yes, I can!

  No, I really can’t.

  For a moment she stood on the threshold, staring up at the broken towers above, unable to move one way or the other. Forward or back. Her thoughts spun like a wheel, but inevitably stopped at Aidan. Her mind cleared.

  She raised her fist to knock, but the door swung open before her knuckles could brush the wood.

  The white-haired freak stood there. She couldn't help her mouth from falling open, she had thought him dead. Aidan's blow with the rock had to have shattered his skull. Declan was almost dancing on the spot as he waved her in. It finally hit her. How far he was standing back from the door, almost halfway down the hall. He wasn't human anymore, then.

  Great. Just fucking great. That was an unwelcome complication.

  Obviously they had been expecting her. They must have spies out in the Reeks. She could only hope Bav had been crafty enough not to let their arrival together be seen.

  Heather scowled at Declan to cover her nerves. “I bet your master didn't spill any of his precious blood to change you.”

  His eyes continued to twinkle, like a child with a secret. “You would be quite wrong. My king bestowed his most wonderful grace upon me—"

  “Oh shut up. I really don't give a damn.”

  The doors fell shut behind her. The sound reverberated like a death knell, sending a shiver up her spine.

  No, actually that was Declan’s cold fingers on her spine.

  “Get your hands off me!” Heather snapped, spinning around.

  He inclined his head and dropped his hand, but not before she saw a smile twist his too-red lips. Creepy fucker. Still, he was nothing compared to…

  “You are forgetting your training, mo leanbh. Announce our visitor.” Abhartach’s voice rang out from the dining hall. Heather lifted her chin, walking forward determinedly. Declan’s amused voice called out her name in mocking tones.

  Her body froze on the threshold. For a second Heather was unable to move, to force herself to enter that room.

  Declan reached for her again and she shied away.

  Her compulsion to avoid his touch broke through the fear enough that she was able to step forward on her own. Her eyes were drawn to the awful table like a magnet. It was sparkling clean, unadorned. A dark slate-grey expanse with Aberhatach at its head. The vampire king sat in his chair, that twisted mockery of life. He stroked the tangled arms as he regarded her.

  “Welcome back, my dear. I confess I had not thought to see you again so soon. Make ready the woman’s former chamber, mo leanbh. I will call if I have need of you.”

  Heather waited until Declan drew the double doors closed.

  “I'm not staying, you know.”

  Abhartach chuckled. “Do you possibly imagine you will leave here ever again, human?”

  “Yes, I do, actually. I brought something for you. A present.”

  Abhartach laughed delightedly. “Ye mean other than Aidan on a platter?”

  “Oh I think you want this far more than him, I think. In fact, I am counting on it. I want your word that you will not harm him if I give it to you. Harm him or me.”

  He raised his eyebrows, considering her. When Abhartach stood, she jumped despite her resolve to be brave, but he merely took a few steps to his right and pulled out a chair for her.

  “Please.” His voice was mockingly gracious. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse him, to keep as much distance as possible between them. That wasn’t the mission, though. Her stomach quivering, she commanded her legs to move and sat.

  Abhartach took his seat again, giving her a bemused look. “Does it feel odd to seated at this table…instead of laid out on it?”

  Her hands twisted in her lap. “Odd isn’t the word I'd use, no.”

  He acknowledged her words with a sardonically appreciative smile. “Come then, dear. Where is my present?”

  “First, the vow.”

  “Now, now. Everyone is so obsessed with vows all of a sudden. My, my. You don't in a million years believe that it will be that easy. You must be confident in your trinket's worth or you wouldn't have come here so boldly, but I have to disappoint you, I'm afraid. There is nothing—"

  She took out the vial and laid it on the table. Abhartach's voice seemed to snap in two. His black eyes gleamed red. For a long moment he neither moved nor seemed to breathe. Then his head swiveled to face her. “That’s not—”

  “It is.”

  “Impossible.” He shook his head angrily, as if trying to rid himself of hope. “Aidan did not lie. I would have sensed it.”

  “Aidan didn’t know. Ronan held some back.”

  “Lugh’s wolf?” Abhartach stretched his hand forth, his thick fingers brushing the vial, but his eyes remained on her. She let memory and belief flood her mind, just like her and Bav had practiced.

  'Ye fooled Aidan once, ye can fool him. Abhartach has no' Aidan's gift, only the slight telepathy granted him by blood sharing, and unless he bites ye, tha' will be nae worry to ye. But donna forget tha' he is demon and fae both. Abhartach is far, far more perceptive than a human. Remember tha'. Ye must believe what ye tell him. Believe it, see it. Make it real. 'Tis yer only chance.'

  Ronan with the vial in his hand, his fingers closing around it that day at the lake. Then she saw herself in his and Lacey's cabin, pulling it from Ronan's desk, when it truth it had been Aidan who had pressed it into her hand when they left the Reeks. It had been empty then. It wasn't now.

  Heather held the story in her mind's eye, letting her love for Aidan push away all doubt. It would work. It had to work.

  “You would let the earth burn for him?” His tone was incredulous, but he believed her. She could hear it in that raw voice.

  “Wouldn’t you?” Heather whispered, trying not to let her relief show.

  “No.” Abhartach picked up the vial, turning it this way and that in front of his eyes.“No, I wouldn't.

  "Nor would I come to an enemy’s gates, an enemy far more powerful than myself, with no protection to offer a gift that could be taken easily from me by force. What are ye hiding, my dear?”

  Relief cracked in a rush of icy terror.

  Don't panic.

  Don't panic! Stick to the fucking story.

  Sell it.

  “You need to test the portion first, before you even know it is for real, don’t you?” Her tone was low, almost patronizing. Abhartach cocked his head.

  “Of course. Not on myself." He winked at her. "I am sure I can find a suitable volunteer." His considering look gave her chills. She wondered who he'd choose, she was routing for Declan. Since what was in the vial was only crushed dirt and a bit of rock. "That, however, doesn't answer my question, does it?”

  “Really, you don't see it yet?" She smiled at him, far more bravely than she felt. "And then…once you know it works. How do you plan to get more? I only brought you enough for one try. But there is more, I promise you. A great deal more. Somewhere very safe.”

  Abhartach stilled, his fingers tight on the via
l.

  “Torture is known to loosen lips.” He spoke slowly, testing her reaction. She could practically hear the screech of evil gears working behind those black eyes.

  “I survived your torture once, what makes you think I can’t do it again?” She lowered her head, her hair tangling over her face. Giving her something to hide behind as she took a breath, putting every ounce of belief she could muster in her next words. “I promise you I will die before I give up the rest of the potion’s location without your vow.”

  “I could put that to the test.”

  “You could…and I could not stop you, of course. I am only human. You should know, though, that Ronan Fitzpatrick, 'Lugh’s wolf', as you put it, is probably on his way here right now. He'll be tracking me.” That at least was true enough. When Ronan found her gone from that old house…would Bav be able delay him long enough? “I doubt you want him involved.”

  “Bah, he is only human now, as well. What care have I for him?”

  Heather raised her head coolly. “That’s odd.” She murmured it, as if talking to herself.

  “What?” Ab said impatiently. “What is odd?”

  “That goddess, Bav. She told Aidan you were too smart to risk a war with Lugh. I guess, she was wrong…” She let her voice trail off while looking Abhartach in the eye.

  He grunted, looking down at the vial in his hand.

  “Lugh wouldn't cause a war over one stupid human.” He didn't sound convinced of his own words, but she felt another nudge in the right direction would not be amiss.

  “I was under the impression that 'stupid human' helped to eliminate a serious threat to Lugh’s throne very recently, but what do I know, being a stupid human myself?”

  “Being flippant is a dangerous thing for a woman in a vampire's castle." Aberhartach showed her his teeth, but Heather could see him weighing her words. All she needed was time. Just a little time.

  C'mon, you bastard.

  "Fine." He waved a hand over the table airily. "We will test your potion and if it works…perhaps you will get your vow." He gave her an indulgent look.

  Bullshit, Heather thought, dizzy with suppressed triumph. Wow, Bav was right. The vampire king was arrogant beyond belief. It was obvious Abhartach would never make such a vow…not to her. She didn't need him to, she just needed…

  "I think a drink is in order." He bellowed for Declan, while Heather's hand tightened on the cold stone table. That would work perfectly. If only she could get the poison where it needed to go.

  So close.

  Aidan woke with the memory of hope burning in his chest.

  The way he had felt on that cliff face after Mac had left him. He had pushed away his pain over losing Isleen and concentrated on the idea the sea god had planted in his mind.

  As Mac has no doubt intended him to.

  It was easy to remember the feral joy he had taken in circling back and slaughtering all three of the vamps Abhartach had tailing him. It had been while he was taking down the last one that Ronan had walked out of those woods…

  With Ronan, he had gone back to Du'n Dreach-Fhoula and shown Abhartach that with Isleen out of reach it was a very good idea to leave him alone. Or suffer the consequences.

  It was only centuries later, when Abhartach had built back up his minions and finally decided to come after him en force, that Aidan had allowed himself to be forced out of Ireland. He had been ready to go at that point. The memories had only become more painful as time went on, and he had long taken his leave of the Fitzpatrick's by then, with what had happened between him and Daire.

  Aidan had gone, and with leaving Eire, the memories had finally began to slip away. Becoming blessedly dim and hazy. No more, though. Since he had returned his mind had made him relive almost every bloody step of the godawful journey that had brought him to this point.

  He was fucking sick of it. Just sick of it all. That fire of hope was gone now. Long cold ashes. There was no such thing as hope.

  Or love. Not for him.

  No matter what Heather thought.

  As her name sounded in his thoughts, an accompanying flash went through his mind. He tried to shut it out, but it was too strong. A series of feelings thrummed through his psyche, fleeting but perfectly clear. Fear. Resolve. Terror. And the tiniest flutter of hope.

  Then Aidan saw where she was.

  He shot to his feet even as dread settled its cold feet in his stomach.

  "Donna, Heather. Donna ye do this!" He screamed the words to the empty room, but Aidan already knew it was too late.

  Chapter 19

  Heather watched as Declan brought a goblet to the table and filled it from a wineskin. He looked at her from under his pale eyelashes. His gaze always made her feel exposed, as she had been when he lifted her from this table. She had faded in and out on consciousness for just a few moments. Her clothes had been hanging by shreds, along with a good deal of her skin. Declan had looked at her this same way then. Like she was a piece of meat he wanted to sink his teeth into.

  She shivered at the memory but didn't drop her eyes. Declan only smiled, his tongue touching his thin lips once before he turned away.

  "Hold, I have a task for you yet, mo leanbh."

  She watched as Abhartach rose from the table, her heart starting to pound as he drew Declan to one side. Both of their backs were to her under the painting of Aidan as he murmured something in the new vampire's ear. Everything seemed to slow down, as if time itself had solidified.

  In profile, she could see the vampire king's lips barely moving as her hand slipped into her pocket. She thumbed the stopper out of the tiny vial before she raised her hand quickly above the table. In one smooth movement Heather passed it over Abhartach's cup, draining the contents within it. Her arm was sliding back under the table just as he turned back around.

  Thankfully, she was too intent on being careful of the poison to move or startle.

  'Not so much as a drop.' Bav's words hissed in her ear as if the goddess stood right beside her.

  With a grace she didn't knew she possessed she worked the dangling stopper back into the bottle while Abhartach settled back in his seat. The door shut again just as his gaze fell on her face. She tucked the vial into her pocket and meet the demon's eyes.

  "What is with all the secrecy?" Her voice was good, just the right blend of appropriate nerves without breaking over into hysteria. Her pulse, though, was pounding. Lights danced at the edge of her vision.

  Too much, he'll suspect something. No, she told herself, no, he won't. He'll just think you are worried about what he was whispering to that horrid man. It's fine.

  Fine.

  Abhartach's eyes rested on her, like hot weights sinking into her very soul. He raised his glass, saluted her. Sweat popped out in a slimy film down her spine.

  He lifted the drink to his lips.

  She took a long, shallow breath. Something stirred in the black depths of his eyes. Slowly, he set the cup down without looking at it.

  Under the table, her fingers started to shake. Abhartach tilted his head, considering her. He looked down at his cup, then at her. He smiled.

  "How rude of me. Please…ladies first."

  He reached out, offering her the cup. The tiny gems circling the rim winked at her.

  Heather took it automatically.

  Her heart was no longer racing out of her control, it seemed to have stopped altogether. Well, she thought.

  Well, well.

  Somehow she knew this was a test. He didn't really suspect anything, but he had instincts, just like any other dangerous animal, didn't he? Something had triggered one of them. That was all.

  Heather was absolutely sure that if she drank, he would, too.

  At least if she did it without fear, without hesitating. As Heather had once before in this room she raised her eyes to Aidan's painting and once again his face gave her strength.

  It was heavier than she expected and her arm had trembled slightly taking the weight, making the scarlet
surface ripple. She could smell the scent of it. It smelled like regular wine, fruity and cloying. For some reason she was more worried now about the possibility of ingesting someone's blood than a lethal poison.

  "It is just wine…isn't it?" she asked him.

  He laughed as if she had made a hilarious joke. "Is that what ails you? Humans. I forget how weak your stomachs are. Of course, it's only wine. Now drink! I sent my child for some of my less fortunate family. They will amuse us as they decide who gets to try this potion of yours before the sun sets."

  Heather nodded as if she understood his words, though she hadn't.

  She felt utterly detached from her movements, as if they were not hers at all.

  Her fingers curled around the hammered gold stem of the goblet. Its pebbled surface was almost warm under her fingertips. The surface of the liquid shimmered as she tilted it, the rim pressed against her lips. Something screamed in her head, a voice that sounded remarkably like Aidan's. She smiled as she listened to it for one second, ignoring the panic and fear, hearing only his voice saying her name. She was sorry to cause him pain, but he'd get over it.

  He'd see it was better this way. Eventually.

  She couldn't go back to her old life, and she couldn't share his. But she could make his a little easier.

  Heather swallowed. The liquid didn't sting or burn on the way down. It tasted like raspberries with a faint sour tang. As she had known he would, Abhartach immediately took the cup from her nerveless fingers and drained it.

  He slammed it back on the table, a grin on his skull-like face. He coughed once. Then again. Shook his head.

  Deep inside her Heather felt a spark catch into a flame. It flared hot as Abhartach started to choke, his eyes widening as he tried to get the air to scream. But there was no air.

  Everything was burning and she smiled at him through the flames.

  Lugh had not been there when Aidan had lunged from the room, but Fand had. The fairy queen had listened to his plea with her head cocked, that dreamy smile playing around her lips the whole time. He had fallen silent out of pure agitation, sure she was not processing a word he was saying.