by Denise Agnew
Remaining invisible, they descended on the mugger. Faster than the mugger could blink, Ronan plucked the gun from his hand and threw it against the wall. The weapon shattered into little pieces. He pulled the man into the alley. The young man who stood beside the ATM took off at a run.
Sorley lifted his fist and let out a yell. “Go ahead, run. Forget thankin’ us for your stinkin’ money and maybe your life.”
Ronan knocked the man out and they left the alley without materializing. When the man woke up he would probably wonder if the whole thing had been a dream.
They hadn’t gone far when they heard a loud explosion, this one coming from Main Street.
What was that? Sorley asked. Sounded like a bleedin’ nuke went off.
Let’s find out.
They materialized on Main Street. A small flower shop had burst into flames. People milled around the street, shouting, pointing and others running from the scene. A black sedan with dark windows roared away, almost knocking down a man rushing across the street. A cop car followed, sirens screaming.
Ronan gestured to the car. “Those bastards threw a Molotov cocktail.”
Bloodlust turned Sorley’s eyes carnelian red. “Let’s get ‘em!”
A flash of unease made Ronan grab his arm. “You see if there’s anyone trapped in the building. I’ll take care of the bastards who threw the cocktail.”
Some of the red left Sorley’s eyes and for a second he looked like he might argue. Instead he nodded and dematerialized.
Ronan didn’t know how many people rode in the black sedan, so he didn’t try to teleport and materialize into the car. As he flew in the air alongside the car, he could see three burly men occupied it. This called for heavy-duty ordinance; he couldn’t rely on the cops doing all the work. He didn’t have time to place an object in front of them unless…
He appeared in the road in front of the onrushing car and planted his hands on his hips and his feet wide apart.
Ronan watched the driver’s eyes widen in horror. Seconds later the screech of tires on pavement pierced the night. The driver swerved and veered off the road toward a copse of small pines. Ronan closed his eyes and concentrated on slowing the car’s momentum to a more survivable speed. As the car rammed into the trees, it ran over the smaller ones. With a crunch the right side of the front bumper hit a much larger tree. Steam poured from under the hood. Taking a quick look into the car, Ronan saw all three men sprawled in the car, unconscious.
Good. At least he wouldn’t have to put them out for the authorities. He went invisible again. The police cruiser pulled up behind the car and out jumped three cops. He remained invisible and stuck around for a few minutes to make sure the police could handle the criminals.
A few moments later he headed east on Main Street, a strange new energy in his physical body and his soul. Sunlight crept toward the horizon, ready to bring on a new day. He almost felt as if he could fight the sun and its debilitating effect on him. Knowing the idea made no sense, he maintained his invisibility and flipped the cloak hood up to block intruding light. Again he popped onto Main Street closer to the fire. Firefighters worked the blaze.
Sorley, where are you?
Cold wind whooshed by him like a fast train.
Then he heard a deep chuckle he would know anywhere. Sorley isn’t here, but I am.
Ronan stood on the sidewalk near a store and didn’t move. Gloating over your handiwork, ancient one? You’re causing this mayhem, aren’t you?
I start nothing. Mortals have all the ability to create hate and crime and the iniquity of the ages.
You lie.
I speak the truth, but you choose not to listen. You would rather believe I am the root of all evil on this planet. That I do whatever I can to bring you personal pain. Have you ever thought you seek pain? That you want to punish yourself for Fenella’s death?
Ronan couldn’t stop the upwelling of hatred as it surged upwards in waves. Nothing irked him more, enraged him more, than people who couldn’t take responsibility for their actions. This warmed-over shit pile hadn’t taken accountability for anything in a thousand years.
You killed her, you asshole.
Her stupidity led her from home and into unguarded territory, just as it does any human who doesn’t listen to the dark warnings in their heart. Humans deny that they must be on watch, and they don’t understand that bad things lurk in the shadows and the light barely keeps it at bay. Their souls are haunted and yet they deny the dark side of their lives in favor of the light. When the dark comes, they do not identify it until it is too late and they’re consumed. That’s what killed your Fenella. There is something you didn’t know about her.
Ronan’s breathing came harder, his turmoil breaking loose. You’re lying.
Just because I am the most powerful vampire on earth does not mean I lie full-time. You delude yourself as much or more than I would mislead you.
He couldn’t trust what the ancient one said, but he could certainly probe the monster for answers. You’re saying Fenella had a dark side?
She explored her dark side yet kept it hidden from everyone, including you.
No. He wouldn’t believe it.
Believe it, Ronan Kieran. From the time she was young she played tricks on others and used her charm and wits to deceive. Just as all women do.
Ronan drew a deep breath. So that explained it. Respite eased his mind. The ancient one’s taunts weren’t really about Fenella, but about the old vampire’s twisted categorizations and beliefs about females.
Deciding now he should try a new tactic, Ronan thought, What is your real name, ancient one? The one your unfortunate parents gave you at birth.
The laugh, rusted with hate, rolled over Ronan’s skin and made it prickle. My name is long lost, even to me.
Ronan knew the ancient one lied and why he kept his name a secret. If anyone knew, the name might be used against the ancient one in a ceremony performed by a seer if that seer practiced magick.
I’m here now, Sorley said.
Relief filled Ronan. At least with Sorley and him combining energy, they may survive an attack from the ancient vampire.
Sorley’s shaky voice filled Ronan’s head. The ancient one is here, too.
I know.
Penetrate his mind for his name. Now!
Although Ronan knew what he planned was dangerous, he didn’t see how he could ignore what he must do. He closed his eyes and threw the full power of his concentration outward. He would penetrate the psyche of the ancient one if only for a few seconds.
He pushed and pushed.
There.
A hitch as he intruded on the old vampire’s brain slowed him down, like swimming through thick mud. Then he was in. Give me your name, ancient one.
Ronan sensed the ancient one’s quiver, as if the awareness of Ronan piercing his mind felt highly unpleasant. What have you done?
The growl in Ronan’s mind sounded like a lion, angered by the insistent teasing of a fly.
Taken a piece of your mind, Septimus Ademus.
Ronan could have cursed the old creature, called him a knave, a clump of shit on the bottom of his shoe, but didn’t want to take the chance of bringing on another fight in this time or place.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Sorley’s voice said, a rasp of fear and awe.
Get out of here, Sorley. Go!
With a harsh, guttural laugh, the ancient one continued. You think knowing my name will save you and this wimp? Your other useless mortal friends? Then I gave you too much credit for intelligence.
Ronan’s heart seemed to thud with thick beats and his breath stuttered. He knew he couldn’t maintain the connection much longer. A strange and foreboding malaise worked its way inside him and demanded surrender.
He’d felt overpowering evil in the tunnels the last time he’d fought the old vampire. When they’d saved Micky from the monster, he’d experienced the seeping, disgusting wound of evil that embedded itself in the very tunnel walls. Now
he touched the wickedness with his own mind and it frightened him.
For added protection, Ronan inhaled deeply and imagined white and gold light surrounding him. A real glow, like the sun touching glitter, spread around his body.
Do it, Ronan said to Sorley, Protect yourself now.
Another shimmering sheet surrounded a shorter, skinner outline nearby Ronan’s right side. Worried about his chatty friend’s silence, he built the strength of the white and gold light around his own body. Because of the shielding the connection between the ancient one and him should break.
He’s tainted now. The old vampire’s slithering voice scratched over Ronan’s mind like sandpaper. The darkest has him.
The darkest?
That which is darker than my soul.
Ronan couldn’t believe it. He’d heard of such a thing, and the evil they’d encountered in the tunnels certainly qualified as the most evil Ronan had ever experienced. You can’t have him.
The darkest. The darkest has him. He’s been touched.
A mild panic flared inside Ronan, but before he could do anything the old one’s presence evaporated like steam.
He glanced to his left and saw the glow around Sorley’s body. Are you all right?
Of course I am.
The why the hell didn’t you answer?
The glow around Sorley’s form vanished. Because I couldn’t. After we made connection with the ancient one’s mind, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get my bleedin’ breath.
Let’s get of here then and talk about this. Now we have his name—
No. We need to track more of the people wreckin’ this town. We could have had some fresh blood tonight.
Ronan didn’t like the way this conversation was going. After seven hundred years I don’t like the taste of fresh human blood anymore. You know that. And you said you don’t either.
The pause made Ronan wary.
Sorley spoke a minute later. They’re criminals. I don’t see the harm in it.
Anger made Ronan lose his patience. Think about what you just said, Sorley. Do you think, after living on thawed blood from packets that you’d be able to hold back with a mortal? Do you think you could stop short of killing them?
Sorley’s voice, when it came, sounded almost as sullen as a teenage boy. You may not be able to do it. But I can.
Ronan held back, despite the fury that bolted through him like lightning. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard coming from his old friend.
Sorley, though, couldn’t let it go. We’d be gettin’ rid of the scum of the earth. What difference does it make?
As they rounded a corner and started back toward Main Street, Ronan’s irritation snapped like a whip. Because that would make you no better than the ancient one.
Feeling the ire radiating from Sorley was easy enough; the vampire was never much good at keeping his feelings under wraps. You think because you’re the older vampire that you can lord it over? Do you think the rest of us are under your command or somethin’?
No. But you’re not thinking clearly. You need to remember that taking fresh human blood will make you want more. You’ll crave it every day until the need burns in your stomach like an ulcer. Don’t you remember that?
I remember. But I won’t need to worry about that if I’ve got the frozen blood.
What if all Hades breaks loose and you and I have to go without the frozen blood for awhile? Are you going to hurt a mortal for your needs? Think, man.
I am thinkin’. It’s you that isn’t bein’ reasonable.
Like a monster long suppressed, Ronan’s frustration burst forth. If you even think about hurting a mortal, I swear to God—
You’ll what?
Sorley’s voice held a surliness Ronan hadn’t heard nor expected to hear from Sorley ever. It didn’t make sense, but his jolly friend turned argumentative in no time. Apprehension crawled up his spine. Was his friend’s behavior a symptom of what this town faced?
All around them people scurried in a panic and some wouldn’t come out of their homes at all. Few people moved down the street, still slick with ice. None of them guessed two vampires conversed telepathically only a few steps from them. The entire scenario since they’d wandered the streets today felt surreal, a carbon copy of a horror flick with no ending.
Emergency vehicles littered the street as firefighters continued to put out the blaze and prevent it from spreading to other buildings on the street.
To Ronan the real terror came in acknowledging something had gone very wrong with Sorley.
Sorley, this isn’t you talking. The ancient one said you’d been touched by the darkest. He has to be talking about the other evil in the tunnels. The evil that is worse than him. Did you go to the tunnels while I was arguing with the ancient one?
No. And I don’t think I’ve got any bleedin’ problem. I’m all right. Why do you believe what he says anyway?
Sorley, listen. This isn’t us. We don’t argue like this.
We do now.
No. Think. This could be a symptom of the darkness in this town.
I don’t think so, mate. This is you tryin’ to tell me what to do every time you get a wild hair up your arse.
You’re telling me you can’t wait until we get to Erin’s and defrost a bag of blood?
Why wait? These criminals are worthless. The jails are full of ‘em. I say we eliminate some of the pressure and drain the lot of them.
If Ronan hadn’t been ready to strangle Sorley, he might have considered the dark humor. If I hear you’ve harmed a mortal—
Never mind it. I’m goin’ for a walk. I’ll be back at the house later.
Ronan didn’t know whether to be relieved or more concerned when his old friend took off. His thoughts reeled. Sorley’s biting argument had thrown Ronan out of sorts. It couldn’t be Sorley’s real personality creeping through because Ronan had known him long enough to see into the Irishman’s deepest thoughts. Sorley might be a reformed thief, a man who’d done some wild and dishonorable things as a mortal. As an immortal he didn’t stray much, despite his wildest talk. Perhaps he should go after Sorley.
No. If he did that he had a feeling there would be a physical confrontation this time. When he confronted Sorley next he would need tools to fight the darkest, the total absence of light.
Ronan jammed one hand through his hair and held back a sigh. Apprehension grew inside him and he realized with sudden clarity that Clarissa needed him.
He didn’t know why or how, but he had to get back to her now.
Chapter Sixteen
Clarissa stared at Lachlan and Erin for several seconds in pure disbelief. “You mean to tell me that—” She swallowed hard as her voice went high. “That having sex with Ronan is going to make me sick?”
Before they could say anything, Ronan popped into the kitchen.
Clarissa almost came out of her skin. “Jeez, can’t you give us some warning before you do that?”
“No,” he said matter-of-factly.
Before Clarissa reacted to his cheeky statement Erin asked, “Where’s Sorley?”
Ronan’s gaze took on a haunted air, as if a weary burden had been added to his already battered soul. “He’s cooling off somewhere.”
Lachlan’s eyebrows went up. “Cooling off?”
Ronan explained their patrolling adventures. When he finished everyone looked a little stunned, even though what he said didn’t surprise Clarissa much. Despite the loyalty Ronan displayed toward Sorley, she’d sensed restiveness, an on-the-edge quality in the other vampire.
Lachlan’s displeasure came out as he went to the refrigerator and took out the coffee. “That little pissant.”
“You don’t think he’d really hurt a mortal, do you?” Erin’s voice took on a vein of fear that echoed in Clarissa’s heart. “I mean, he’s a bit naughty sometimes, but hardly the type to turn rogue.”
Lines formed between Ronan’s eyebrows as he brooded. “Naughty? That’s not a word I’d use for a vampire, if
I was you.”
Determined to put a little levity in the room, Clarissa said, “What about stubborn, strong, and most annoying?”
Ronan strode toward her chair, his gaze tangling with hers in a heated way that made her stomach clench from arousal and not nausea. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about Sorley?”
She waved a dismissive hand as he stood close to her. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”
Tiny flames jumped into his eyes and despite the fact their friends stood around them, another hot flare of desire stirred inside her. His glare held hunger and exasperation melded. He made one of those typical male grunts females had been hearing since humans walked out of caves.
As he peeled off his cloak and tossed it on a chair, Erin went around closing the blinds to keep out the encroaching morning sun.
Lachlan seemed eager to return to the patrolling adventures. As he started the coffeemaker he asked, “So you think Fortesque is off your butt permanently?”
Ronan shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe for a little while.”
Erin sighed. “What Clarissa saw is coming true.”
Uneasiness hung in the room like a pall, and the weight of it made Clarissa want to curl up in a ball and erect shields against visions and vibrations that might come to her. Yet she refused to wimp out. These people had become her friends and she needed to help them.
Ronan explained more about what happened, and when he got to the part where he’d encountered the ancient one, Clarissa felt her heart skip a beat. “He’s tainted now by touching the ancient one’s mind?”
“It’s the only explanation I have for his sudden turn in behavior.” Ronan marched to the freezer and unceremoniously pulled out a bag of frozen blood. He plopped it in the microwave on defrost.
When the microwave dinged Ronan retrieved his blood packet. He poured it into a large plastic blue tumbler. Clarissa was grateful the tumbler wasn’t clear. The last thing she felt like doing was watching him drink a glass of blood. To her amazement he tipped the tumbler to his lips and started drinking. His throat worked and worked. He didn’t sip his life force renewal like fine wine, but like the requisite it had become.