Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel

by Alisha Ashton

  “Aye right. Whatever was I thinkin’? I can see now just how truly well ya are,” Taran commented sarcastically.

  Skye forced herself to open her eyes, only to find that Taran was leaning forward in his chair, eyeing her fretfully.

  “I’m straight. No problem. Just a little headache,” she assured, disliking his obvious concern for her.

  Taran let out an incredulous, ‘hmm’, but kept his thoughts to himself.

  She conceals anything that might be perceived as weakness, he noted. Either she is taking to the wolf in her with ease, or she is extremely defensive by nature.

  “In tha case, on to your questions,” Taran urged and rested his chin in his hand, curling his fingers over his lips and leaving his eyes to reveal the extent of his intrigue.

  “Right... questions,” Skye began.

  Instead, she found herself thinking about how much she enjoyed listening to his melodic accent. His eyes were set on hers so knowingly that she felt his presence in the depths of her soul.

  Questions... she was supposed to be coming up with questions here.

  His powerful, muscular form would lead the untrained eye to believe that he was in his early thirties. There was no doubt in her mind, however, that he was far older than the castle surrounding them. Finding something to voice, her lips were moving before she had thought through what she intended to say.

  “You’re one of the werew—,” she began, but stopped abruptly at the near slip. “You’re one of the faol ancients,” she corrected.

  Taran’s smile, while still hidden beneath his curled fingers, reached his eyes.

  “Aye, love,” he answered knowingly, “Though I can nah help but notice, ya were nah asking.”

  Skye averted her eyes and licked her lips out of nervous habit. Mercifully, looking down at the stone floor gave her a chance to gather her thoughts.

  “My question is this – you’ll help me... why? What do you stand to gain from it?” She asked.

  Taran leaned forward in intrigue, resting his arms on his knees and studying her guarded posture.

  “Has it been your experience then, tha a person must be in the position to gain something in order to help ya?” He asked curiously. Even without her questions, it would have been apparent to him that she was not the type to trust easily. He sensed that there had been harsh lessons learned in her short life.

  “Yes.” She answered firmly and kept her eyes locked on the floor.

  Taran’s brow furrowed as he sat back in his chair once more. He exhaled slowly, forcing his breath through his lips and tapping a finger to his temple. His eyes went to Miko as he recalled the mortal’s assurance that there was a ‘long story’ behind how their paths had crossed. This girl was uncomfortable in the presence of men – at least, when the situation was non-violent. He could tell by the way that she carried herself that she was seeking a reason, any reason, to lash out. She would be more relaxed if given cause to fight. Indeed, it must have been a drastic chain of events that had thrown Miko into her world. So drastic that she had tolerated his antics all the way from the States to this remote point in the highlands.

  Taran chewed the inside of his cheek, letting his eyes pass over her tight braid of long, blonde hair. He marveled that her appearance was that of absolute control from head to toe. Her clothes were form fitting, but it was not an effort to appeal to men. She was covered all the way to her throat. No, it was not for men. It was for tactical advantage, as well as a means of masking her femininity.

  At last, his voice cut through the silence.

  “Then it will please ya to know tha I do stand to gain something from having ya here,” he said and watched as she slowly met his gaze.

  For an instant, not more than a fraction of a second, he could see the relief in her face; relief that an unknown ulterior motive for his hospitality was about to be revealed to her, that she had been warranted in her distrust. Just as quickly, it was gone – hidden away behind her emotionless mask.

  A knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He understood her more than she could possibly be prepared for.

  “I have been in this life for so long tha time holds very little meaning for me anymore. Family, friends, centuries, countries, governments...” Taran rattled off and waved his hand dismissively. “They have all passed by and yet I remain. But this visit of yours, wee one, affords me a bit of distraction from tha inertia. And perhaps even some amusement – albeit at Lance’s expense.”

  Miko rolled his eyes in mock indignation, but kept quiet.

  Taran’s face and tone became serious as he continued.

  “Now, I realize tha isn’t the sinister motive for which ya were hoping...” He held up a hand when Skye opened her mouth to protest. “But it is still the truth, just the same.”

  Skye ground her teeth, hating that he had called her out on her distrust. She stood and walked to the shelves along the wall of the room’s perimeter.

  Watching her every move, Taran went on.

  “Ya are welcome here, Skye, and I will teach ya all tha ya need to learn. When your training is complete, ya may choose to leave. I will nah speak against it. Until then, however, for the sake of innocent lives, I must insist tha ya stay here, where ya can be contained.”

  He chose to omit the fact that a pup’s training lasted well over a century. He doubted that would go over well.

  Skye stood rigidly with her back to him, scowling down at the binding of a random book. In the uncomfortable silence, she fought back her unease at the way Taran seemed to read her as effortlessly as the pages lining the shelves.

  “What’s in the forest?” She finally whispered.

  Miko looked over at Taran in confusion, but found that the faol’s features were suddenly grave.

  “Why would ya ask tha?” Taran said cautiously.

  Skye ran her fingers over the spines of the books, sighing and trying to put words to it.

  “Because I can feel it. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like I need to be there, like something wants me to... I don’t know...” She trailed off, still struggling with the earlier sensations.

  Taran arched a brow and stood, approaching her slowly. “Hear me well when I say this, wee one. Do nah ever go wanderin’ into tha forest.”

  She looked up at him as he stopped beside her and studied the sudden severity of his features, the lines at the corners of his eyes brought on by some undefined worry.

  “Ya will nah survive to return. I can nah protect ya from what lies within those trees. D’ya understand tha?” He asked as his gaze searched hers intensely.

  Skye swallowed hard. It was partly due to looking into his eyes while they were standing in such close proximity, but also because he had just informed her that the forest surrounding this castle would kill her if she ventured into it. Then there was that part about him ‘protecting’ her. He would actually try, she realized in astonishment. For the first time since she was a child, she did not find herself offended by the idea of someone wishing to help her. On some (heavily repressed) level, she actually found the thought of him fighting to keep her safe to be... comforting. Her brows drew together at the unfamiliar concept and she nodded, unable to voice a response before looking back to the books.

  Taran sighed; it was like getting blood from a stone with this girl.

  “Ya are far from an average pup, I see,” he whispered quietly enough that Miko could not hear it.

  She looked up at him again, this time with sadness in her eyes that surprised him, pulled at him.

  “Thank you,” she managed softly before looking away, awkward at using the words. “For... you know, helping me.”

  Taran smiled and whispered close to her ear, “And thank ya, wee one, for coming to my door instead of tha of any other faol. I count myself as lucky for it,” he told her, and nodded that it was the truth when she looked up at him curiously. He smiled down at her fondly, holding her gaze for a moment before squeezing her stiff hand and returning to his chai
r.

  She savored his lingering scent once he was gone. He smelled like sweat and soap, and absolute, irrefutable MAN. It brought to mind several things. Of them, the only topic suitable for conversation was her new abilities.

  “I can hear things now – and smell things,” she began as she walked toward the fireplace. She sighed at the memory of her new gift. “Today, I was able to tell that a woman was pregnant by scent alone. When I listened carefully I could hear... no, I could feel the child’s heart beating inside of her.”

  Miko’s jaw dropped open.

  “You can freaking do that?” He asked as he looked over at Taran in disbelief.

  “Aye,” Taran laughed. “And it gets a great deal stronger after the first change,” he assured the mortal, but his eyes quickly wandered back to the intriguing pup.

  “I don’t feel different yet,” Skye observed as she sank down into her seat. “I thought it would feel... I don’t know... weird to become an immortal. Like something in my body would feel strange or wrong or irrevocably changed.” She laughed bitterly as she added, “Then again, I had always been under the impression that being an immortal meant you had to be dead.”

  “And as good as ya are feeling, ya know right well tha you’re more alive now than ever before,” Taran stated knowingly.

  “‘Good’ is a very modest way of describing it,” she said with the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. “It’s like nothing hurts anymore. None of my old breaks are throbbing at the rain that’s approaching. I don’t feel tired anymore. But still, I thought there would be some drastic difference. I mean, I’m not even human, right? But aside from the heightened senses, I still feel like me, just without all the mileage.”

  “Ya have nah lost your humanity, pup,” Taran assured gently. “Ya have simply gained the wolf and all the gifts tha come along with it.”

  He took in the subtle differences in her posture. She kept struggling to relax, to let her guard down, only to fight off the attempt and go stiff again. Despite his best efforts to hold his tongue, he could no longer contain his curiosity.

  “Tell me, Skye, what parts does your family hail from? The Isle?” He asked with genuine interest.

  She gave him a confused look. “What ‘Isle’?”

  “The one for which ya were named, of course,” he laughed.

  When she merely eyed him inquisitively in response, he arched a brow.

  “As in the ‘Isle of Skye’... ?” He tried, but she did not seem to catch his meaning.

  He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and trying to figure out why this was such a difficult question. As he had been informed, English was not yet so different in America that it would require him to relearn the language. Then again, it had been a great many years since he had last inquired as to the dialect of the newly formed country. Perhaps, he decided, it was simply an issue of not wording his question properly.

  “Wee one, where did your family immigrate to the States from?” He tried instead. “What is your heritage?”

  “I...” Skye began, but averted her eyes yet again.

  Taran noted this as one of Skye’s many tells. It was an indication that he had broached a touchy subject.

  “To tell you the truth, I never asked them,” she confessed and fought to keep all traces of emotion from her voice. She stared down at her nails as a means of avoiding Taran’s gaze. Heritage was not something a 12-year-old really cared about, and that had been the last time she had seen her family alive.

  Miko shot Taran a discrete look of warning that this was a tough topic.

  Taran inclined his head slightly in response, conveying that he was already aware of that much.

  “Well, then I shall just have to tell ya myself,” Taran went on in a cheerful tone, intentionally and effectively drawing Skye’s thoughts back from whatever painful place they had wandered to. “Ya’ve quite a bit of Scots in ya, of tha there’s no denying. I can see it in your very features. Faden was once a common name round these parts... nah so common now, but centuries have a way of doing tha.” His voice grew softer as he continued, “And the land for which ya were named? The Isle of Skye? It is the most beautiful place I have ever laid eyes upon in this world...”

  When he paused, she summoned every bit of courage she possessed in order to look at him. The instant she did, his striking eyes locked on hers.

  “And so,” he went on with devastating smile, “I find tha ya were named appropriately, my love.”

  Her knees grew weak. Her heart skipped several beats. Thankfully, she had been sitting down for that one.

  Having men compliment her was, unfortunately, a common occurrence. They spoke to her, asked her out, offered to buy her drinks, and countless other actions that spurred a verbal lashing or beating from her. It seemed irrelevant to them that she walked around with a perpetually pissed-off expression. The great efforts that she took in hiding her figure did nothing to dissuade them. However, receiving compliments from a man that she was (might be) interested in, that flustered her so severely and sent her temperature skyrocketing, was definitely a new experience.

  She did not know what to do first. Blush? Deny that her ancestors could have come from this place? Ask him to tell her more? Despite her curiosity, blushing won the race and she quickly looked down at the floor again.

  Taran smiled, as if listening in on her thoughts.

  “It is nah tha far, wee one,” he said softly. “We can go there after the full moon has passed, if ya like.” He was due a day away from the castle, anyway, and could not imagine anything that he would rather do than spend it with her.

  Skye’s eyes lit up at the prospect. There was nothing left of her family for her. The idea of discovering a small bit of her heritage was unexpectedly thrilling. She found herself smiling, if ever so slightly, in a warm fashion. It felt odd.

  “All right... yeah. I’d really like that,” she managed.

  Way to wow him with your conversational skills, she chided herself. His eyes were still on her, making her overly aware of her breathing, her posture, the way she was sitting, where she rested her hands...

  Why did he have to keep staring at her? She had a million questions for him, but with those steely gray eyes on her, she could barely form coherent thoughts.

  “How much time do I have?” She finally asked in frustration.

  Taran motioned over at Miko. “Just long enough for Lance here to offload the ton of crap he’s brought along with him.”

  “Whoa! My stuff is not ‘crap’!” Miko insisted as he climbed to his feet. “I’ll have you know, most of those bags contain basic defensive aids. Not to mention, a coffeemaker and enough grounds to last us a week, which falls under the category of ‘survival essentials’, in my book.”

  Skye looked over at him in amusement as she stood. “A coffeemaker?”

  “Fuckin’ A, right!” Miko confirmed emphatically. “You ever tried waking yourself up in the morning with a strong cup of tea?” He asked incredulously. “Didn’t think so. Whether you have Scottish heritage or not, you’re still a genuine, sleep-deprived, coffee-dependent American. I’ve seen the way you run on caffeine and nicotine, chickie – and hey, I sympathize – but go poke around in Tar’s kitchen. I bet you 50 bucks there ain’t a coffee pot in there. The closest thing you might find is instant coffee and who the hell wants to drink that? I brought one along so you and I won’t be walking around like zombies.”

  “Wow, Miko. That’s really...” Skye began with a surprised smile, but caught herself.

  She was going to say, ‘that’s really sweet’ – which it was – but she winced at the thought of speaking those words aloud.

  “... a good idea,” she finished instead, not noticing the knowing look that Taran shot in her direction. “Good lookin’ out, Miko,” she added coolly before turning and quickly walking out the door.

  “See? Not ‘crap’,” Miko said with a triumphant grin. “It was a ‘good idea’, heard it straight from the little lady’s mou
th.”

  Taran rolled his eyes. “Well, whatever it is, I hope ya know I’ll nah be hauling any of it inside for ya,” he warned. “And just so ya are aware, there’s nah any staff present to be helping ya, either, on account of the moon. Ya will be carrying it in from the car on your own. Which brings me to my next item of irritation – what were ya thinking with tha car? Ya are lucky to have even made it here from the airport in such a relic.”

  Miko’s jaw dropped open indignantly. “See, that ain’t right, Tar. Why do you gotta automatically assume that it was my decision to get that car? If you must know, that was some disgruntled Scotsman having a good laugh at the expense of a couple of yanks,” he insisted as they made their way outside.

  9: The Beast Within

  Watching Miko hauling his bags up the stairs and through the halls was exceedingly amusing. Unfortunately, Skye was distracted from the hilarity by the absolute beauty of the castle’s interior. After a long trek, they reached the room where Miko would be staying. Skye struggled to maintain her composure when Taran took her arm in his (yet again) and smiled down at her.

  “Come, love,” he began sweetly. “I’ll show ya where ya’ll be staying after the moon.”

  She could only manage a weak ‘okay’ in response.

  Miko cursed them both and fought to drag his bags into the room as they walked away.

  As much as Skye tried to keep her eyes to herself, she kept looking over at the brutally handsome, impossibly ancient powerhouse of a man at her side. She wanted to talk, to say things – to open her mouth and have intelligible words come out. It just was not happening. Her entire body, as well as her mind, was transfixed by him. The feeling of his massive arm clasping hers made it difficult to even breathe properly, let alone attempt to carry conversation. She stole a glance at his bare, smooth, rippling chest and stomach and felt her pulse race. He really needed to button that up before she injured herself. Another stolen glance had her wondering at the roughness of his beard... what it would feel like against her skin, what his lips would taste like...

  Wait, what? She demanded before giving herself a mental shake. Where is this stuff coming from?