Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)

by Heather R. Blair

  He had been completely stunned when she simply took his hand and nodded sadly. "I know where this castle is," she whispered. "It's frightful, but I suppose if you must go, you must. But I won't stay. I can't abide unhappiness, I am sorry."

  She left him on the cliff face, her big blue eyes sad.

  A few seconds later, she reappeared. Hand in hand with…Ronan. He was cut and bruised and bloody. He obviously been climbing all day, trying to get to Heather, to do what Aidan had asked of him. Fand shook her head at them both, her long, blond locks glimmering in the twilight. "I didn't think you should be alone here. It's very scary." She bit her full lips, looking up at the ugly black doors. "But what's inside is worse," she whispered.

  For a minute, Ronan and Aidan only looked at each other.

  "What did she do, Aidan?"

  "I don’t know. But whatever it was, it's done. Open the doors. Please."

  Ronan drew the sword and pointed it at the towering black monstrosities. With a creak, they drew apart.

  Inside all was chaos, tapestries had been pulled from walls, cracked and splintered picture frames and furniture littered the floors, along with quantities of smashed china that crunched under their feet like gravel.

  They made their way through the debris, not looking at each other. The dining hall doors sat crooked and ajar. Aidan raised his hand to push them farther apart but he stopped, his palm an inch from the wood as if he had hit an invisible barrier.

  He didn't want to see what was in that room. Heather, her flesh stripped to the bone, the table covered in her blood flashed though his brain. Finally, Ronan reached around him and shoved the doors wide with the point of his sword.

  At first, relief flooded him. The table was bare, save for one overturned goblet, empty, lying on its side. Abhartach was in his chair, that twisted hawthorn abomination. His hands were thrown wide, outstretched absurdly as if trying to fly. His throat was clawed bloody, a reddish-black gaping hole.

  He was dead.

  Abhartach was dead. Aidan realized this should have made more of impression on him, but he couldn't take it in.

  "What in the seven hells happened here?" Ronan whispered.

  Aidan didn't care what had happened here he just wanted, he needed—

  A choked breath whispered through the room. It had come from under the table. As one, Ronan and Aidan grabbed the huge stone monstrosity and tossed it aside, neither flinching at the resulting crash.

  Heather was there, curled on her side, pale and shaking. Aidan knelt next to her in the mess and brushed her hair back from her face. Her skin was like ice against his fingers, but that was nothing to the ice that cut through his veins.

  Aidan had known there was no hope, from the second he had seen she was here…he had known it. Still, he had to ask.

  “What have ye gotten yerself into this time, ye bloody eejit woman?”

  She shook her head ever so slightly, her lips curving.

  “God, Aidan. Do you ever stop being an ass?”

  “No. But you like me and my arse.” He took one of her hands and squeezed it. She tried to return the pressure but her grip had no more weight to it than butterfly's wings.

  “Yup, I do. Enough to try and save it. It's damn fine ass, Aidan.”

  He tried to smile for her but his mouth wouldn't work. Instead he let his eyes trail to Abhartach so he wouldn't have to look at her dying in front of him.

  “What the fuck did ye do to him?”

  “Poison.” She whispered it.

  “But where in the hell did ye… Oh.”

  Bav.

  When she left him in Ti'rna N'og last night, she must have gone straight to Heather. He had been stupid not to have seen it, to suspect. Why hadn’t he made sure Heather was safe with Ronan before he left?

  But Aidan knew damn well why. She had said those words to him and he had lost his fucking mind. Now, instead of giving her a chance, he’d managed to ensure she had none at all.

  He dropped his head, watching his fingers on her wrist. Her pulse was slowing.

  “Goddamn it, Heather,” he whispered.

  “Yeah. Bav came to me after you left. It was some kind of liquid metal, deadly for him because he was still fae, she said. She thought I could get him to drink it, and I did, Aidan. Only…not so lucky for me, he insisted on sharing first.

  "Bav did warn me it could kill me, too, Aidan. She didn’t lie. It was my choice.”

  “Oh aye, she has a heart of gold, tha’ one.” He didn’t want to talk or think about the goddess now, not now, but he wanted to keep Heather talking. To hear her voice for awhile longer. “What happened after? This place looks like a damme bomb went off.”

  “Ugh, that nasty Declan came up here with a bunch of the others. He's a vampire now, by the way. When they found Abhartach like that, they went nuts. Seems only a few of them were actual loyal to him, imagine that? There was a terrific fight, I could hear…awful things. But Declan…he didn’t leave until just before you came in. He was watching me through the whole thing.” She shivered.

  “He didn’t try to hurt ye?” Aidan couldn’t figure out the why of that.

  “He was too scared to touch me, he was terrified I’d somehow poison him too.” She winked at him, even though he could see the bright sheen of pain in her eyes. “It wouldn’t have hurt him. Bav told me. Only Abhartach ‘cause he was fae, and me ‘cause I’m a stupid human.”

  “Nae, ye’re no’.”

  “Yes, I am. It was stupid to tell you…that I love you. It scared you and I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing about ye scares me, nobody.” His voice was soft and choked as he stroked her delicate wrist.

  Her lips twitched as her eyes closed. “Bullshit.”

  She went so still, her head falling to the side as her lips parted. Ronan lurched forward, but Aidan put up a hand. "She's no' gone, no' yet. Just passed out." He dropped Heather's wrist gently, curling her fingers into her palm.

  Aidan stood up. "I…fucking Christ, I canna do this." Without a word, he pushed past Ronan, seeking the night, the air, the cold. Anything to escape this agony.

  Ronan emerged from the castle only a short time later.

  Aidan was sitting on the mossy steps outside the kitchens, looking out over the Reeks. The serrated edges of the landscape were bright and sharp in the moonlight. His face was empty, hollowed out, more desolate than the scenery. He barely resembled the man Ronan had known for almost eleven hundred years.

  “Aidan. What the fuck are ye doing out here? Ye can stop this, I know ye can. Nobody can save her but ye. Bav isn't going to come—not for her. Ye know that. She’s dying.”

  “Then she will die. I canna do this, Ronan. I willna.”

  “She loves ye, mate.”

  “Aye. And I love her. ‘Tis why I canna. Leave me be, Ronan.”

  Ronan made a strangled noise. He reached two huge hands toward Aidan as if to shake him, then dropped them helplessly.

  He shook his head. "Aye. Aye. 'Tis your choice to make and gods know there is naught I can do to force ye. But I will go sit with her. Someone should."

  With a hard look, he left Aidan alone in the dark.

  As soon as he was gone, Aidan slipped to his knees with a strangled cry.

  His head in his hands, his fingers clawing at his hair. More so than at any other time in his existence he wanted out; out of this skin, out of this body, out of this mind. He didn't want to be able to feel anymore.

  You think you can't take any more, that you've faced the worst of the worst, but as Chloe had said, wise beyond her years, 'hurts like love, I guess. There's always room for more.'

  At what point did it stop?

  He couldn't make this choice, not this choice. Furious, he leapt to his feet.

  "Fuck! What the hell do ye want from me?" He screamed it at the gleaming arch of inky sky. As he expected, no answer came. The night was utterly quiet, silent as stone.

  He could let her die, he should let her die and stand here and wait
for the sun to rise. That was the right choice. The only way to protect her was to let her go.

  The noble choice, the good choice.

  The hero's choice.

  But….what if…what if the wrong choice was the right choice this time? Other words rang in his head, those words that had shook him to the empty places where his soul had once been.

  If it's wrong to love the dark, Aidan, then I'm already damned.

  Who was he kidding? He hadn't been a fucking hero for a long time.

  Aidan whirled and ran for the door, praying he wasn't too late.

  When Aidan crossed the threshold to the dining hall for what he dearly hoped would be the last time ever, he saw Ronan first. The big man was holding Heather’s hand like it was made of spun glass and murmuring to her non-stop, though Aidan could see her eyes were closed.

  Ronan lifted his head as Aidan entered, his jaw hard as his voice trailed off.

  Heather stirred.

  She opened her eyes and saw Aidan. Her lips curved gently.

  “Took you long enough.” She breathed as Ronan moved back to make way for him.

  Aidan knelt again in the rubble and dirt and pulled her into his arms. She felt weightless, as if her soul had already left her. He dropped his head, staring down at her slender fingers on his chest. He had made his decision out there on those cold steps under the moonlight, but now he had to have hers.

  “Ye said before ye didna want this for us, but there is naught any other way I can save ye, love.

  "No’ now. If ye tell me nae, I will let ye go. But..I…gods, Heather, I donna want to. Do ye want to stay, even if it means being trapped in the darkness, with me…forever?”

  Her fingers seemed to tighten in his shirt for just the barest second, but she didn’t answer.

  Aidan raised his eyes to see that hers had drifted closed again.

  She had passed out, probably for the last time. He wrapped his hand around her wrist. No pulse beat beneath his fingers anymore, but he could still hear her heart, ever so faintly. She was never going to be able to answer him. This was it.

  A low groan escaped him. He held her close as he rocked on the floor of this nightmarish place, wracked by indecision for the space of one heartbeat. Choose. Without her consent. Choose now, or let her go.

  Fuck.

  Aidan closed his eyes and blindly lowered his mouth to her throat.

  If he was wrong he could only pray she would forgive him, because there was no way he was letting her go if there was any chance at all that she wanted to stay.

  Her skin was cool against his lips, silky and sweet as always. So tender as his fangs pierced her. Her blood had been tainted by the poison, he could taste it immediately. A bitter metallic tang that faded as he slowly drained her.

  It seemed to take forever.

  Aidan closed his eyes when the last burst of her heart’s blood broke over his tongue. He had never tasted anything so perfect, and bittersweet. It took him a moment after her heart stopped before he could make himself pull away.

  She looked peaceful lying there in his arms, until you realized she was far too still to be sleeping. Her skin seemed to glow with a pearlesque sheen in the gloom of the hall, her lips smudged blue.

  Heather was dead and he had killed her.

  Aidan slipped one glove off, letting it fall to the floor as he traced those soft lips with one fingertip. Nothing stirred from her psyche at his touch. She was truly gone.

  His heart clenched as he lifted his wrist to his own lips, thinking of everything he was stealing from her in this moment. Sunshine, children…her career, which Abhartach had already left in tatters, yes—but there had been so much left that she could have done.

  Yet it was this… or a grave, he reminded himself. There were no other choices for her anymore. Aidan tore his skin open in one bite and held his wrist over that beautiful mouth.

  It took no time at all.

  At the first touch of his blood on her lips, Heather gasped. Her eyes stayed closed but she shifted, suddenly restless against him.

  Ronan watched them from across the room, silent, his eyes wide.

  When Heather grabbed Aidan’s forearm in both hands, pressing his wound to her mouth to drink from him hard and fast, Aidan shivered. Her mouth was hot and greedy, the press of her newly growing teeth sharp against his skin.

  He knew what happened next all too well and braced himself. Ronan, however, was caught unawares when her body bowed up into a taut, unnatural arch.

  “Aidan…what—“

  Ronan's next words were lost in a single piercing cry that snapped through the room like a whip.

  The sound cut Aidan soul deep, but he didn't let her go. Not even when she dropped her hold on his arm, thrashing against him, her screams going on and on. His ears ached and his arms throbbed with the effort of keeping her close as she struggled with the change. It seemed like hours before she quieted and it probably was. For him.

  For her, it would be more like a whole lifetime.

  Aidan remembered. He knew exactly the hell he had unleashed inside her. He bent his head, held her tight and waited.

  Images of her flitted through his mind; soft and strong, her skirt tangled around her hips in the sparkling river, water dripping from her beautiful skin. Blood on that same skin, ripped and broken, but still beautiful to him.

  Her tears on his lips. Her hand in his when the sun rose. Him inside her when it set.

  The fierce look on her face when she told him she loved him.

  He swallowed, starting when something brushed his face. Heather's fingers.

  "Tell me you aren't crying. My whole image of you as a bad-ass warrior is crumbling."

  "Sorry to disappoint you, love, but warriors cry." Her eyes were open, that same deep silky violet. Only faintly backlit with a new preternatural glow.

  "I'm not disappointed, and I suppose they do. But only on special occasions."

  "Is tha' what this is?" His throat was raw.

  "Of course. We will celebrate it every year."

  Aidan choked back a horrified laugh. "Like hell we will."

  She stretched lazily, wrapping one arm around his neck. "It doesn't feel anything like I thought it would."

  "What doesn't?"

  He already knew what she was going to say and still it floored him. "Being a vampire, of course."

  Aidan leaned back, his eyes narrowing. What?!

  “You knew this would happen when you choose to drink that poison? How did you know? Did Bav—"

  “Oh, settle the hell down! I didn’t know, Aidan. I thought it far more likely I was going to die here alone with that awful beast. But I hoped. I really hoped you would get here before that happened.”

  “Then why the fuck didn’t you ask as soon as you saw me?”

  She laughed softly. "It had to be your choice, Aidan. You know that." He did, but it still made him mad. Then she stretched again, winding her fingers in his hair. "Besides I promised you I wouldn't, remember? I don't break my promises, Aidan.”

  He sucked in a breath and hissed it out. “Gods, ye are too fucking stubborn by half, nobody.”

  “You've said that before.” She said with a smile, pulling his head done until they were nose to nose.

  “And I’ll be saying it again, no’ doubt.”

  “Again and again and again. But for now, how about you shut up and kiss me?”

  Heather wouldn't let him carry her out of the castle.

  "I walked in here on my own two feet and I'm leaving on my own two feet." She wasn't sure why it was so important to her, except anything else seemed weak. She'd beat death in this horrid place, not once, but twice.

  Well, the second time was maybe a wash. She was technically dead, Heather supposed. It didn't feel that way, though, not by a damn sight. She felt wonderful.

  Heather caught Aidan's eye as they crossed the threshold and grinned.

  "Wanna race to Moiré's house?"

  He snorted. "No' tonight, love. Ye may
be feeling fine, but I am all in."

  He did look haggard around the edges. He was leery that this was really ok. Her being a vampire. Heather wasn't completely sure of that herself, but…she had lots of time to convince them both, now didn't she?

  "Ahh, look at the poor old man!" She teased, turning to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I think I see a grey hair or two."

  "Watch tha' shite, nobody. And any grey hairs I may or may no' have are solely because of ye.

  "Oh, Aidan, you ass, I really do…," she hesitated, her fingers teasing the fine curls at the back of his neck. "I do get to say it now, right? You won't get scared anymore?"

  He gave a long-suffering sigh, but couldn't hide the tender, teasing light in his eyes as he let her pull him closer. "Well I canna pretend it donna put the heart in me crossways a bit…"

  "Is that Irish for 'terrifies the shit out of you'?"

  "Pretty much, aye. But…go on then, if ye must." He raised his eyebrows and she laughed.

  "Oh, aye, I must. I love you, Aidan O'Neill. Get used to it."

  "I'm trying, love, I'm trying."

  They kissed long hard until Ronan coughed pointedly behind them.

  "Sun's coming in an hour or so. Seeing as I got two bloodsuckers in the family now, can we get a move on? Lacey's gonna be pissed enough without me bringing ye two home in an urn."

  Heather pulled away from Aidan reluctantly before winding her hand in his, then slipping her arm through Ronan's.

  "So I'm family now, am I?"

  "Hell, lass, ye was always gonna be family. Now yer just family twice over. Sure yer up for it?" She laughed but it wasn't Ronan she looked at when she answered, it was into a pair of crystal eyes that had always made her feel like anything was possible. Anything at all.

  "Damn straight."

  The trio were just out of sight, when a streak of light lit the back of the castle. Bav slipped onto the steps were Aidan had sat not so long ago. She fancied she could still feel the warmth of him.

  “I did it. I gave him someone worthy of his love.” Bav looked out over the mountains, but she didn't see them. Not with her emerald eyes blurred by tears. There was a rustle, a flash of gold and Lugh leaned against the half-open door behind her.