Eve of Samhain

by Lisa Sanchez

  So terrified I was sure I’d lost control of all bodily functions, I stood frozen in place, tears streaming down my face. I closed my eyes, not wanting the face of evil to be the last thing I’d ever see. Conjuring up a mental picture of Quinn, I breathed out what I believed would be my last words—an apology. I’d been so wrong to dismiss his warnings, a damn fool. So stupid to venture out on my own when I knew someone was after me. Stubborn and deluded, I’d ignored his cautioning and now suffered the horrific consequence. “Quinn,” I sobbed. “Forgive me.”

  A thunderous roar filled the crisp morning air, and suddenly, I no longer sensed the demon standing in front of me. A familiar tingle ghosted across my skin and up the length of my spine. Quinn. My eyes shot open to see him standing inches from me, crouched and defensive, staring at the demon he’d thrown some fifty feet away.

  “Faerie!” It hissed with a malevolent tone. “This is no concern of yours. Leave!”

  Quinn didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, unyielding, fierce and ready to do battle. “You made it my concern when you attacked the girl.”

  Like a serpentine abomination, the ominous creature slithered forward, its soulless eyes fixed on Quinn, trying to gauge his next move. “What is she to you? I know who you are, Gancanagh. You can have any woman you want. Leave this one to me.”

  Quinn’s beautiful voice took on a harsh, menacing tone, his Irish accent thick with rage. “She is mine.” Gone was the man I knew. This new Quinn was deadly, lethal and more than capable of tearing my stalker apart, piece by bloody piece.

  Overcome with a mix of fear and shock, I backed away from the ensuing fight, taking shelter behind a nearby tree. With horror-filled eyes, I watched Quinn and the demon stalk back and forth in a deadly, macabre dance, each one crouched, spine coiled, ready to pounce like the deadly predators they were.

  In a movement so quick I almost didn’t catch it, the demon flew at Quinn with a blood-curdling scream. The force of the demon’s blow sent both sailing into the back of a nearby utility building with a deafening crash.

  One second Quinn was on the ground, the next he vanished into thin air. My eyes darted back and forth in search of him, and I jumped when he reappeared again, lifting the hideous creature high above his head and then slamming him onto the ground.

  A high-pitched keening filled the air along with the unearthly sound of bones crunching, snapping, and shifting. The demon shook violently on the darkened pavement before exploding into a brilliant flash of light, rendering me momentarily sightless. My hands shot up to cover my eyes, shielding myself from the blinding light.

  The keening broke off, replaced by a vicious snarling. Hugging the trunk of the massive oak as if it were some sort of lifeline, I peered from behind the tree once more, my eyes still singed from the flash, to see what looked like a giant black dog baring its razor sharp teeth. It was the same fiendish canine that came at me in the alleyway just the other night.

  The savage cur moved in a wide arc around Quinn, snapping and growling. My heart nearly stopped when it bent low to the ground, readying itself to spring forward and attack. Every inch of me wanted to scream, to cry out for Quinn to run, to get the hell out of there. But I dared not make a sound. A distraction from me could prove deadly, and I’d never be able to live with myself if I caused Quinn harm. So I stood in silent fear, my lips pressed together tightly, my fingernails digging into the scratchy bark of the large oak, praying to God the fight would end soon and Quinn would come out unscathed.

  Quinn popped in and out of the mêlée at light speed, cloaking himself with invisibility one minute, showing himself the next.

  The demon, unable to keep up with Quinn’s dizzying speed, spun in a wild circle, baring its razor-sharp fangs as it growled and snapped.

  With a blur of movement, Quinn magically appeared alongside the menacing beast, and with a look of single-minded ferocity, he kicked the creature as hard as his powerful leg would allow, sending it flying toward the utility building once again with a loud yelp.

  “Hey! You there!” An irate voice shouted from the distance.

  Warning bells rang loud and clear the moment I heard the stranger’s voice. Whoever it was needed to turn around and run in the opposite direction. Didn’t they know there was a supernatural smackdown taking place?

  Shaken and visibly injured, the beast took advantage of the momentary distraction. It let out a low, depraved chuckle, peeled itself off the ground, and retreated into the darkness just moments before the hapless newcomer stepped into view.

  The owner of the strange voice, a round, balding man in his late forties, stepped into a patch of light cast by a nearby lamp, visibly upset with Quinn. He threw up his hand and barked, “Hey, buddy. We don’t take kindly to the beating of animals around here. I’ve a mind to call the authorities.”

  Unable to control his rage, Quinn blew up. “Stupid, fucking arsehole! ‘Twas not a dog at all, but a devil in disguise! He’s escaped and it’s your doing. Leave now before I mop the floor with your fat, balding arse!” I watched his anger float off him in waves, still on a high from the throw down with my attacker.

  The offended stranger yanked out his cell phone, clearly unhappy about being referred to as a “fat, balding arsehole” and began punching numbers into its keypad.

  If I didn’t do something, things would go from bad to worse. “Wait!” I stepped out from behind the tree, my voice breathy and feeble. “Please…don’t call the police. This man…” I pointed toward Quinn with teary eyes and walked forward. “This man saved me from that…that…dog.” It most certainly was not a dog. Demon, devil, underworld freak, yes; it was all those things rolled into one, an unearthly monstrosity bound and determined to claim me for its own. Quinn had saved me from the devil himself and words could not begin to express the gratitude I felt for him.

  The pear-shaped stranger eyed Quinn and I dubiously, lips pursed as he wrestled with his decision to call the cops or not. Evidently satisfied I’d spoken the truth, the man grumbled a quick “fine” before walking away, shaking his head and mumbling something I couldn’t make out.

  Once the stranger was out of sight, I completely fell apart. Having witnessed a mythological shakedown, I was surprised I’d remained standing as long as I did. I fell to a heap on the pavement, silent tears trickling down my cheeks. Curled into a ball, I rested my head on my knees, my hands fisting huge chunks of hair as I repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over again. Mental breakdowns were becoming a regular occurrence for me.

  I sensed Quinn move so that he stood over me, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t face him. Not after what just took place. Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me off the ground, cradling me in his muscular arms, and whisked me away from the scene of the attack. My eyes shot open and I stared at him in shock. He was touching me, though taking care to hold me only where there was clothing in between his skin and mine. I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped short as he spoke.

  “Shh, mo chrói. You don’t ever have to be sorry with me. Hush now and close your eyes.”

  I gazed at him in wonder, not knowing what to say. Why would I need to keep my eyes closed?

  “Trust me, lass. Keep them closed.”

  I did trust him—completely. As soon as I shut my peepers, the most exhilarating sensation whirled over me. Wind whipped across my face, sending my short hair flying every which way. It felt as though we were flying, though I knew that was not the case.

  Doing his best to shield me from the coldness of the early morning air without coming into contact with any exposed skin, Quinn ran and ran, and when I thought he might come to a stop, he ran some more. The rapid pounding of his feet against the pavement was like a steady drumbeat, and my heart kept time right along with them. He didn’t sound winded, and his pace never slowed. Quinn was a freaking machine.

  Just when I was sure he planned on footing it all the way to China, we came to a stop.

  I felt the delicious weight of Quinn�
��s stare on my face as his warm breath wafted across my skin. “Open your eyes, a ghrá,” he said as he set my feet onto the ground. His voice was gentle and surprisingly steady for having run as far and as fast as he had.

  He’s Superman!

  When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in front of what was possibly the largest house I’d ever seen. Tucked into the base of a large hill, surrounded by several massive oak trees and a boatload of greenery, the house was easily the most beautiful I’d ever had the chance to behold. Taking in my surroundings, I quickly deduced we were about fifteen to twenty minutes from the university, in the less populated, more rural area of town. The fact that he ran us to this location so quickly blew my mind, and I stood motionless for a moment in complete awe of him.

  “Is this your house?” I pointed toward the enormous structure awkwardly as I glanced over to look at Quinn.

  He gave a single nod. “Aye.”

  I swallowed hard. “And you ran the entire way here, holding me?”

  “Aye.” He frowned, annoyed with my incessant questioning.

  “How did you do it without people seeing?” I knew he could render himself invisible. But me as well? Visions of me floating through the air at breakneck speeds came running through my mind and I let out a small giggle. How I was able to laugh after what just happened was beyond me. It must have been some sort of survival instinct kicking in. Whatever the case, the laughter felt good.

  “I cloaked the both of us. Now, can we go inside, or would you like to continue standing out here playing twenty questions?” A wry smile adorned his handsome face, and I returned it while sweeping my arm out in front of me, motioning for him to lead the way.

  As I stepped through the entryway into Quinn’s home, one word came barreling into the forefront of my mind: posh. Extravagantly decorated, the house looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. Leather couches filled the rooms and giant flat screen TVs covered the walls as I was lead through the enormous house.

  We ended up in an oversized kitchen, complete with a stainless steel Wolf range oven and an enormous refrigerator built into the wall.

  “Wow,” I said, taking it all in. “This,” I circled my arm mid-air, “is impressive.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn glided toward the far counter and fiddled with the buttons on a high tech machine that looked somewhat like a coffee pot.

  “How did you come about acquiring a place like this? I mean, it’s not like you’re pulling a day job.” I’d been wondering about this for quite some time, how he paid for things. If there was no pot of gold waiting for him at the end of a rainbow, where did all of his money come from?

  “Ah, I wondered when this conversation would take place. Have a seat, a ghrá, and I’ll answer some questions for you.”

  I pulled out an expensive looking barstool and sat down, letting my arms rest on the cool marble countertop of the massive island that sat stationed in the center of the impressive room. Seriously, his kitchen was bank and would have Martha frigging Stewart’s tongue lolling out of her mouth with its high tech gadgetry and spotless décor. I felt a twinge of insecurity, sitting in his posh home in a pair of ratty sweats, but forgot my worries the moment he opened his mouth.

  “So you want to know how I pay for things if I’ve no job, eh?”

  I nodded silently, trying to keep my cool though I was bursting with curiosity.

  Quinn flitted around the room, pulling out various cooking utensils. “You could say I’m a good investor. I own property all over the globe, several companies, restaurants…”

  “Okay, I get it. You’re smart. You’ve diversified your money. Where did it come from?” Deep down I knew what his answer would be, but I needed to hear him say it.

  Quinn let out a sigh, no doubt resigning himself to the fact I was not going to let it go. He placed both hands on the countertop, leaned forward and spoke.

  “I wasn’t always the charming, good-natured bloke you see before you. There was a time, many, many years ago when I was angry, filled with bitterness and hate for what had been done to me. Before leaving the women I’d seduce, I’d persuade them to give me all of their money. Of course, I’d make sure to charm only the wealthiest—noblewomen and the like.”

  “Enough!” I put my hand up to stop him. It was just as I’d suspected. I couldn’t let myself get angry with any of the appalling things he’d done centuries before. Well, I could, but it wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. Besides, I couldn’t say I’d have behaved any better if I’d been cursed, and I felt a momentary pang of pity for his unhappy plight.

  He treated me to a look that plainly said, I told you so. “We need to talk about what happened this morning, Ryann.” His voice took on a serious tone. He bent down and rifled through his oversized refrigerator as he spoke, pulling out the makings for what looked like some sort of egg breakfast.

  My eyebrows shot up. He cooks?

  The look of astonishment on my face must have been plain as day because Quinn rolled his eyes at me before reaching up for a copper pan that hung above the stainless steel range. “Yes, I cook. I’ve got to eat, haven’t I?” He shook his head and scrunched up his mouth and nose. “Quit trying to change the subject. Is there a reason you didn’t heed my warning about going off on your own?” He slammed the pan down onto the counter and leaned forward, his expression a mask of controlled frustration. “And tell me, lass. Just what were you thinking when you decided to go for a run during the wee hours of the morning? That’s just asking for someone to attack you!”

  His words came out with the force of a storm, his face grim, serious, and marked with worry. This was why I’d been trying to avoid this conversation. I knew I’d disappointed him. I’d placed myself in danger, and I felt, well, I felt plain stupid. I hated being wrong, and having to admit it was even worse.

  Tears of anger and frustration welled in my eyes and I blinked, desperately trying to keep them from falling. My words came out in a garbled mess. “I know…I’m sorry, okay? I was stupid…you don’t have to rub it in. I just felt so awful and I didn’t sleep, and well…after the break-in yesterday, and my car being stolen, I needed to do something to get rid of my anxiety.” I dropped my head, lifted my shoulders, and looked up at him through my lashes like a little kid trying to talk their way out of a punishment. “I took my phone with me.” And it hadn’t done me a damn bit of good.

  A tic formed in his jaw. “Break-in? What break-in?” His powerful voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls as he eyed me fiercely. “Start talking.”

  Unwilling to keep things from him any longer, I quickly filled him in on the details of both break-ins. “I should have listened to you and Voodoo Martha,” I trailed off, feeling like an utter moron.

  He looked at me with his brows knit together. “Voodoo Martha? Who the hell is that?”

  “My new roommate. She told me I was surrounded by a dark aura and that something evil was following me.”

  Quinn stopped what he was doing for a moment and stared fixedly at me as I spoke. “Did she now? And how would this Voodoo lady know about such things?” He looked a bit shocked that someone else knew of my dark stalker.

  I shrugged. “I think she’s a witch, or she’s into the dark arts. I don’t know,” I said, dismissing the whole Martha issue with my hand. “She doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I know better now. I won’t be running by myself again. I just need to figure out a safe way to get rid of my anxiety.”

  “I’ll run with you,” he offered, placing a plate with a rather large omelet on it before me. “Eat.” It was more of a command than a suggestion, and I watched as he pushed a glass of orange juice next to my steaming plate.

  My stomach reacted to the delicious aroma wafting from my breakfast plate and growled in excitement. I didn’t need to be told twice to eat and dove into my food greedily. “You don’t have to run with me. You aren’t my keeper,” I said with a mouth full of food. I was too hungry to be embarrassed.

 
He filled the large sink on the opposite side of the island with hot, soapy water and began scrubbing away at the copper pan. “No, I’m not your keeper. But I do care about you. Friends look out for one another, don’t they?”

  Friends: the most God-awful word in the English language. The last thing I wanted to be with Quinn was a friend. I wanted so much more from him. I thought he wanted more than friendship from me as well, but maybe I was wrong. At that point, it didn’t matter to me. If friendship was all he wanted to give, I’d gladly take it.

  As he dried the large copper pan with a nearby towel and hung it back on the rack overhead, I was a bit stunned that faeries did the Suzy Homemaker thing like the rest of us. “So is that what you were doing for me this morning then, looking out for me?” I couldn’t imagine what else he would be doing traipsing around my apartment building that early in the morning.

  How long had he been waiting around outside?

  Quinn tossed the towel over his shoulder and eyed me with a panty-dropping grin. “I had a feeling your stubborn nature would win out over common sense, so I came back later in the evening to keep an eye on you.”

  If it were possible for my insides to actually melt, I’d have been nothing more than a spineless bag of flesh at that point. Gulping down half of my juice, I set the glass down and stared at him. I had another topic I wanted to discuss. “So you touched me this morning.” I knew if I didn’t mention it, the subject would never be broached. He’d held me in his arms, taking care not to touch my skin with his, and I’d felt no reaction whatsoever. Hope burst forth like water escaping from a dam.

  “Aye, that I did.” He stiffened a bit as he answered me, obviously not wanting to proceed down this particular path of conversation.

  Hopping down off the stool, I slowly walked around the large island, one hand tracing along the edge of the marble countertop to steady me, as my knees were weak and my body shaky. In fact, my heart threw flip-flops because it knew what I intended to do. I was going to lay my hands on Quinn.