by Of Night
“No. I dinna want to be healed.”
Valya stared at him in confusion. Duncan had a zest for life and met every challenge head-on. He had never known him to give up so easily.
“Dinna look so unhappy, my old friend. It has been a long time since I have seen my beloved Fiona. She was me one true love. Now I go join her.”
Fiona, Duncan’s wife, had left this life nearly fifty years ago, but had never left Duncan’s thoughts or his heart. Valya nodded in understanding, knowing the near agony he had endured being apart from his life mate. And a new fear gripped at his racing heart.
“Where is Richelle?”
“Gone.” Duncan began to cough furiously as Valya stopped breathing at the one word before Duncan could continue. “She’s gone. She left a few days ago after I told her about her mother, how and why she was murdered.”
“Why did you let her go?”
“I couldna stop her.”
She must have been so frightened, to take off when she had nowhere to go, Valya thought, but she must have gone somewhere. “Where did she go?”
Duncan’s smile fell.
“I dinna know. She wouldna tell me. She went to the bank, withdrew the money left by her mother, and left.”
“You should have sent word to me.”
Duncan nodded.
Valya felt as if he were being compressed in a vise. Every muscle in his body constricted, and he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He should have been here. He should have come to her after Richelle graduated. Then he could have been here to protect them, and Richelle would not have run in fear and Duncan would not be lying in a pool of blood, dying.
“I should have been here,” Valya stated.
“Dinna berate yourself, lad. The Fates have made their decision. There is nothin’ to be done when they select yer thread.”
Duncan mutely nodded. The Fates were impartial and immovable. Valya also knew that destiny could be changed by turning a different corner, by going left instead of right. Richelle had changed her destiny by leaving. Duncan started coughing again as Valya held his head up trying to ease his discomfort, his pain. He wished there was more he could do for him.
“Lissen carefully, me lad. Richelle left before I could tell her everything aboot you, about the Immortals, and the Vampyres. She left because she dinna wanna put me in danger. Do ye understand what I’m sayin’?”
Valya shook his head.
“She dinna know the true danger. She dinna know what her true destiny is. Ye must find her quickly.”
“Do the Vampyres know where she is?”
“Vampyres?” Duncan questioned with his brow furrowed. “’Twas not Vampyres that came here. ’Twas the old priest with His Believers. ’Twas them who came here lookin’ for the lass. The old priest went mad when he couldna find her here. He destroyed the cabin. He killed her beloved animals that were protectin’ her home.”
Valya’s fear was minimally dispelled. He thanked the Gods that it wasn’t Vampyres who were coming for Richelle. She would have no defense against them alone, without him. While the old priest was relentless in his pursuit of Richelle, Valya had hidden her well. However, the old priest wouldn’t stop searching for Richelle, and Valya would not rest until Richelle was safely with him as his mate.
“She wouldna tell me where she was goin’. She left a note. She wrote she would be fine and she dinna want me to come lookin’ for her. She dinna want me to worry. As if her bein’ away would stop me from worryin’.” He scoffed, laughing before a fit of coughing over took him, leaving him wheezing in its wake. He grasped at Valya’s jacket, pulling himself up, his voice raspy but deathly calm in his request.
“Find her, Valya. I’ve loved that wee lass since you brought her here to me home. I couldna love her less if she were me own daughter. Find her, Valya. Protect her.” He coughed again, the last of his breath burbling from his throat. With a final gasp, he fell back as death claimed his soul.
Valya reverently laid his friend gently on the ground. He offered up a silent prayer to the Gods that Duncan find peace in the arms of his gentle wife, who had waited so long for him to join her. He hung his head. Twice now he had been too late to save the life of an innocent protecting Richelle. Twice the life of his mate had been placed in his hands and twice he had failed.
He threw his head back and howled his anguish into the night. The earth trembled at his rage. He would find Richelle. Never again would she have to run and hide in fear. He would find her and claim her as his mate. Then she would never need to fear anything ever again. He would find her. He would not fail again.
Chapter 1
Richelle Sommers shifted uncomfortably in her airplane seat, rubbing her temples with her fingertips to stop the incessant throbbing that had persisted since taking off.
It was more than the claustrophobic sensation of too many people pressed together like sardines in a can.
It was more than the stench emanating from the poor disabled man, sitting in his wheelchair at the head of the aisle, who had urinated on himself during the flight.
It was more than the unwanted attention she was receiving from the businessman seated next to her and his indecent proposal for drinks, and more, when they landed.
She closed her eyes as she leaned her head against the window. She tried to block out the jumbled thoughts of those around her. Faceless voices filled her mind with a flurry of meaningless claptrap that clouded her mind with the incessant ringing of white noise…
I can still make dinner by seven as long as the plane lands on schedule.
I can’t believe Aunt Martha married that man. Can’t she see he’s only after her for her money?
I’ll simply tell her that we can’t see each other anymore, that we’re just not right for each other.
Damn that stewardess is hot. I wouldn’t mind joining the mile-high club with her.
I should have gotten that promotion. That place wouldn’t run if it weren’t for me spending every weekend in the office.
Richelle had hoped that taking a red-eye flight non-stop from Tampa to Detroit would be a quiet trip. She usually avoided large groups, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to silence the chaotic ramblings and noise she sensed from the minds of others. But there were times when there was absolutely no choice but to endure the inexpressible pain, like now, as she was returning home. Especially when some thoughts were too close for comfort.
Like the lewd interest directed her way by that businessman.
She didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching her every move. She could feel the heat of his gaze and lust in his heart every time she adjusted her seating position to move away from him. And each time he would invade her space a little more. Earlier during the flight, he had tried to make conversation with her, complimenting her on her eyes, her hair, her perfume, bragging about his business conquests, trying to convince her to join him for dinner and, to put his crude invitation delicately, spend the rest of the evening with him.
His seemingly sincere approach was belied by his unspoken and crass thoughts about her looks, and he could do nothing to hide the truth behind his business conquests. They were more like exercises in corporate espionage and sabotage. And as he tried to lure her into his web under the pretense of drinks, he made no mention of the wife and two children he left behind in Tampa visiting her mother to fly back to his office to scam a loan from one of his company’s lenders.
She smiled politely and declined, but he saw her refusal as a challenge. He became aggressive, ruder in his implications and more vulgar with his remarks. He even became so bold as to lean over to whisper a crude intimation while his hand drifted over her breast, giving it a callous squeeze. Her skin burned as if frostbit by the winter wind, and it felt as if sharp icicles were driven into her brain.
She turned away from him as much as she could, crossing her arms across her chest and feigning sleep, trying to protect herself. Any other woman would have called for the attendant, but Rich
elle did what she could not to draw attention to herself. She had learned it was easier to run and hide than it was to stand and fight. While she guarded her body against his touch, her mind wasn’t as he eyed her form, letting his imagination run wild. Richelle suppressed a shudder as she saw every bawdy act he fantasized.
Her experience with men had been very limited, both because she was uncomfortable around people in general, being a shy and private person, and because a simple touch could cause her excruciating pain physically as well as mentally. So his improper and offensive machinations coupled with his hand upon her breast left her in dire need of an escape. And there was none to be had. Groaning, Richelle focused her mind. She tried to clear away the unsolicited interest and all the random thoughts echoing in her head from those around her. In doing so, she was startled by the spoken words that resounded in her ears.
“Are you all right, miss?”
She jerked and turned to see the flight attendant leaning over her annoying suitor. His gaze ineptly drifted to the attendant’s ample chest, temporarily diverting his attention away from her. His lascivious thoughts stabbed into her mind as the stewardess repeated the question.
“Are you all right, miss? Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” she croaked, her voice betraying her parched throat.
“It would be no problem, miss,” she said brightly despite the glaring look she threw at the male passenger. “I’ll bring you some water.”
“No, really, I don’t want to be a bother.”
The attendant beamed warmly at her.
“It’s no bother. As a matter of fact, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling all right?”
“No, really…I’m…”
“I think we should move you up front…until you feel better.”
Richelle cringed as the passenger next to her began to raise a fuss over the attendant’s comment.
“If you’re upgrading seats, lady,” the repugnant man interrupted, “then I should be moved. After all, it was your airline’s fault my flight was cancelled and left me stuck in coach when I had a first-class ticket.”
“As I recall, sir, your flight was not canceled but delayed. You opted to take this flight because it was non-stop rather than take another flight that would require a transfer in Atlanta. And you didn’t have a first-class ticket, it was business class.”
He began to fidget in his seat as his gaze darted about. His embarrassment at being caught in a white lie to get his way had made his face turn beet red and perspiration bead in his brow as the stewardess continued her gentle, but firm admonishment.
“I am simply moving the young lady up front as she looks ill. I certainly wouldn’t want her to get sick and accidentally get your suit dirty…sir.”
He cleared his throat and settled back into his seat without another word as the attendant assisted Richelle to the front and closed the drapes behind her. Richelle looked about at several other passengers traveling first-class. A few were asleep, one was listening to music on the headset, three were reading, and two looked like they were working. Not one had so much as raised their head to look at her as the flight attendant led her to her seat and helped her get settled. That suited her fine.
“Thank you…” Richelle murmured quietly, giving the attendant a soft smile while trying to find a name tag.
“Joanna,” the attendant finished, smiling warmly.
“Richelle,” she said.
“It looked like you needed some help.”
“I did,” Richelle admitted. “I don’t do much traveling…he seemed fine at first, but then…well, then he…and I didn’t know how to tell him…”
Joanna patted Richelle’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile.
“At least now, you can try and get some rest without being harassed.” Joanna reached into the overhead to pull down a blanket and pillow. Handing them to Richelle, she flipped the overhead light switch off while Richelle settled back in her seat, unfolding the blanket on her lap.
“Thank you again, Joanna,” she said as the attendant went back to her duties. Placing the pillow behind her head and tucking the blanket under her chin, she settled into her seat, the pounding in her head subsiding to merely a dull ache. She closed her eyes, trying to relax as she blocked out the murmuring white noise of those around her. This is why I liked living alone in the mountains, she thought wretchedly. She didn’t know what to expect when she returned to her mountain home after so long. Duncan was gone. She wouldn’t be returning home at all except for the notification of a trust fund Duncan had left for her. She could collect it. Everything from her childhood days, such as they were, had long been left behind. All she had left from that time were memories, stretching back to the death of her mother.
Memories of Duncan tucking her in at night and telling her stories about a magical race called the Immortals.
Memories of spending her time walking in the mountains, sitting in the meadow with her studies, and conversing with her animal friends.
And memories of a dark and handsome man who took her to Duncan the night her mother died. Her Guardian.
As a child, when she felt scared or alone, she would wish her Guardian would come and protect her. But he never came. Only a strange and sad silver-gray wolf would come. And those feelings would disappear. She would try to speak with her wolf, reach out and try to touch his mind, but they never communicated. He was a blank slate. But he was a true companion, and she spent much of her time in his company. And then he was gone, probably poached by some hunter.
She never saw him again except in her dreams. He would come to her almost every night in her dreams. He never interacted with her—he just stood there, watching her.
Those dreams stopped when she left Iron Mountain to attend the University of Florida’s veterinary program. Now, many years later having been given the opportunity to return home, she accepted. She just hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
* * * *
Valya exploded from his balcony, bursting into the evening sky and spreading his arms wide, his chest expanding as he inhaled the sweetness of the night air.
There was power he could feel that wouldn’t allow him to stay motionless or silent, blending in with the night as stealthily as a panther lies in wait for his prey. The commanding force compelled him to shriek into the night, expelling his energy in search of…in search of something. But he wasn’t quite sure for what. He had only felt this way once before…just once.
His huge body stilled, his figure illuminated against the golden hue of the full moon. He rose to ride the night winds, carrying him higher into the night sky, where he could reach out and touch the stars as they appeared. He stretched his arms out, his fingertips opening to accept the celestial blessings into his grasp. There had only been one other time in all the centuries he had walked the earth when he had felt this way…and his heart sang with the joy of the thought.
She had returned.
Richelle.
He could feel her presence as surely as he could feel the night breeze caressing his face as tenderly as a lover. As surely as the fading colors began to regain their vivid hues after the ten long years he had searched for her, he knew she was coming. He closed his eyes and opened his consciousness, seeking the spark of life and light that was uniquely her. He needed to find her.
He needed her.
He wanted her.
So much time had gone by. So many nights he hunted the streets searching for some clue of where she might be. And then he would return to his lair, to lie alone, his dreams filled with images of his touching her, kissing her, making love with her only to awaken to another night, abandoned and alone, to fulfill his duty as Guardian. He roamed the deserted streets except for those he encountered with evil on their minds.
His life was empty without her soul touching his. The joy he had found was suddenly taken from him. Despondent without his life mate to light the way through a gray and emotionless world, he contemplated ending his wretched
existence.
But then a glimmer of hope would shine through the darkness. She was alive somewhere. If he faced the dawn, she would be left alone to face the same empty, desolate, lonely world. She would be alone to face the demons of her world, and of his. She would have no Guardian to save her from the old priest or the Evil One.
For her…Richelle…he went on, searching and praying to the Gods he’d find her and bring her home.
And now she had returned.
Finally, he would claim her as his mate.
And he made a solemn vow to the Moon Goddess as he reached out into the night to touch Richelle’s essence, to find her. Never, never again will we be apart. She is the heart that will mend my broken soul. She is my better half. She holds the best part of me. And I will never let her go again.
* * * *
Richelle didn’t get much sleep. During the long flight, she was awakened several times by the unspoken thoughts of the other travelers. They didn’t mean to wake her with their innocent thoughts. They weren’t even aware that she heard their silent musings she tried to block unsuccessfully from her mind. She missed her quiet home.
She had lived alone in a quiet retirement community in Florida while she finished her college education. She tried living on campus for a short time, trying to meet people her own age, but it was no use. She couldn’t shut their thoughts out of her mind, and their immature, almost adolescent thoughts and feelings bordered on pain. She stayed as long as she could but found peace of mind in the friendship she had with an elderly woman, Alma Douglas.
She reminded Richelle so much of Duncan—his spirit, his joy, his humor—it was as if it had all come back to life for her. She had met Alma strictly by chance at a grocery store and immediately felt at ease with her. They spoke for hours, going to a local diner for some coffee. After she had listened to Richelle talk about how difficult it was for her to live on campus, she offered her a room in her own home. Richelle had no reservations about accepting the generous offer and moved in the next day with her meager possessions.
Alma was sent by the Goddess, Richelle surmised when three days later the police contacted her about Duncan’s death. Having been raised in the Wicca faith, she strongly believed in Karma, destiny. She was destined to lose Duncan just as Alma was sent to stand beside her at her time of loss. And she felt the loss of Duncan keenly, even more so than the death of her mother.