Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel

by Alisha Ashton

  Skye chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought it over, finally deciding to take a different approach.

  “And... the fògaraich... they won’t come here?” She asked softly.

  Taran stiffened and quickly answered her concern, not wanting her to fear for even a second that it was a possibility.

  “Don’t ya worry aboot them crossing o’er the threshold of these lands, wee one. They stay well away from here if they wish to keep their heids attached to their shoulders. After what –”

  He opened his mouth to say more, but caught himself. Seeing the way that she was watching him expectantly, he arched a brow. Eyeing her with a mix of wariness and amusement, he wagged a finger and shook his head.

  “Tha was a right sneaky trick ya just played, lass,” he admonished with a chuckle. “I can see now tha ya are going to be dangerous to have aroond. I close one door and ya just try to find another way in,” he stated and climbed to his feet as she smiled up at him in feigned innocence.

  It was a blissful moment, calm and tranquil. The kind you wish you could save forever, to relive any time life got tough. The blossoming trees and flowers around them were swaying in the breeze. The sunlight was dancing in his beautiful eyes as the wind gently tousled his long, wild hair. Taran... he was such a vision that it stole her breath. Her mentor and guardian. The impossibly ancient, yet incomparably virile faol that was stealing her heart. Deep within her, she felt that undeniable connection, the familiarity that had stirred from hearing his name alone. With each moment they spent together, she was drawn closer to him.

  And then had to go and do the unthinkable. Her body went rigid as he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead while running his fingers through her hair.

  “Come, let us put some food into tha mouth of yours before it weaves any more traps for me,” he whispered as he gazed deeply into her eyes. His smile was making his steely grays glitter, but Skye could only stare up at him in shock.

  Too far.

  This had gone too far.

  For the love of all that is holy, why was he always touching her? Did he not realize that she was violent? Crazy? That people knew better than to invade her personal space? And why was she not infuriated by his repeated affectionate words and gestures? She kept searching for that rage; that burst of adrenaline which came when others overstepped their boundaries with her. It seemed not to register Taran for some reason and it was bullshit. The closer she allowed him to get, the more restless she became. She had promised, sworn that she would never permit herself to get this way with a man. Yet here she was, all doe-eyed, following him around like a schoolgirl with a crush. She was giving him far too much power over her, becoming entirely too affected by his touches and gazes and heart-melting smiles.

  Her eyes wandered to his outstretched hand as he offered it. Clenching her teeth, she pushed off of the bench and cut around him. By the time they reached the kitchen, Skye was just as hard as ever. Her inner demons had effectively sobered her from the weakness of happiness. She chalked her foolish behavior up to relief at the vanishing of her scars. It was to be expected, she reasoned. It was only natural for a person in her situation to be somewhat cheerful. However, the disappearance of visible damage did not change who she was and what had happened to her, what had been done to her. She needed to keep that at the forefront of her mind.

  Taran watched repentantly as she put distance between them. He shook his head when she walked to the table and kept her eyes averted. The girl was like an obstacle course, as fast as barriers fell, more were moving in to take their place, each larger and more fortified than the last.

  Miko eyed them suspiciously as they entered, noting the differences in their posture and expressions over such a short period. Skye stood beside him at the table, which in and of itself was a clue that something was seriously out of whack. Inwardly, he shrugged it off and went with it. If she wanted to stick with him for whatever reason, that was fine. Realizing that, in all likelihood, he would never get into her pants did not change the fact that she was a badass chick. Skye was quite possibly the coolest girl that he had ever met. He would hang with her no matter the relationship – friend, brother, whatever. He slid a plate to her with a sandwich as he took a bite of his own, casting wary glances over at the ancient the entire time. He decided that since Taran showed no signs of wounds that were still trying to heal, the faol could not have tried to make a move on her. His cell phone chimed telling him that he had a new text message and he fished it out of his pocket, eager for a distraction from the unidentified tension in the room. He smiled and finished chewing before speaking.

  “It’s Aiyana, she says she needs to talk to us and wants to know if you’re up for a few questions from the nerd brigade,” he told Skye. Much to his surprise, she nodded. Evidently, she was just as thankful for the interruption as he was. After stuffing the remaining bite of the sandwich into his mouth, he decided to give her a chance to tell him (without actually telling him) if she did not want to be alone with Taran right then. “So, Skye... you think I could con you into helping me carry all this shit downstairs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

  The initial look that she gave him was unmistakably one of appreciation for his offer. To save face, however, she quickly feigned displeasure. “What do I look like? Your fucking bellhop?” She asked disdainfully.

  He nodded and gave her a knowing smile when she winked at him discretely. “Eh, well. Ya can’t blame a guy for trying, right? Be back in a sec,” he called as he exited the room. Regardless of how heavy the bags were going to be, he told himself to make this a quick trip for Skye’s sake. While he was confident that the tension between her and Taran was not anything serious, he wanted her to know that he had gotten the message.

  Taran watched as she pretended to be totally immersed in the task of eating, and shook his head at the silence that had settled over them. He made a sandwich for himself and leaned on the counter across from her. A sigh of disappointment escaped his lips as she continued ignoring him.

  “So... ya’ve agreed to let the stake-wielders study ya then?” He asked casually, but she caught the disapproval in his tone.

  “They saved my life. I figure it’s the least I can do,” she said shortly, hoping to either end the conversation right there, or cause it to erupt into an argument that would put some much needed space between them.

  Taran cleared his throat and took a bite, chewing it slowly and eyeing the rigidness of her muscles. He knew what she was up to, but lessons needed to be learned. She was still a pup in his care, no matter how intriguing he found her to be.

  “Ya are deliberately neglecting to remember what I’ve already told ya, wee one. Your life was ne’er in danger. The Ashers interrupted your Maker, creating the problem and, therefore, the need for them to ‘save’ ya,” Taran stated calmly. “Had ya been allowed to stay with your Maker, all things would have been explained.”

  Skye arched a brow, relieved that her temper was finally flaring. She met his gaze for the first time since they had come inside. Her patience was wearing thin and they were halfway to an argument. Now came the task of bringing anger out of him. She was a pro at this part.

  “Of the two, I have to say that I preferred the ‘stake-wielders’ a hell of a lot more than my ‘Maker’,” she growled. “And what the fuck is that, anyway? A title? Some sort of a fucking honor or something? Is he supposed to be my Daddy? I should look up to him for attacking me? Respect him? Love him? What, Taran? WHAT?” She demanded furiously and almost smiled as her screaming grew progressively louder. It no longer mattered how appealing Taran was to her. Her rage had effectively leveled the playing field. “You make it seem as if what that bastard did to me was acceptable. Like he walked up and shook my hand instead of tried to fucking eat me. He stole my mortality, Taran, and you’re treating me as if I should be thankful for it! Well, I’m sorry, but that’s not happening.”

  Taran’s brow furrowed as his expression became mournful.
/>   “Skye, I swear to ya, I understand your feelings on the matter, but –”

  “If it was as civil as what you’re making it out to be, that bastard could have introduced himself,” Skye pressed on, entirely too enraged to care about the sadness that she could see in his eyes. “He could have told me his ‘reasons’ for wanting to change me, and given me the opportunity to refuse it. He didn’t. He bit me. So, what? I should regret that he was interrupted?” She stared at him in disbelief for a moment before laughing cruelly. “Guess what? I don’t. In fact, my only regret in this whole thing is that Miko and the others weren’t able to put him down like a rabid fucking dog!” She finished venomously.

  That did it, apparently. Something in that last round had pushed every one of Taran’s big red buttons.

  His features were far more intense when he was infuriated, she noted. His jaw was flexing and nostrils were flaring as he glared at her in outrage. And why the hell is it making my knees weak, she wondered?

  He had a way of curling his lips back when angry, baring his teeth as he spoke. The action attested to the presence of the wolf within him. He did not need to scream at the top of his lungs to convey his fury. The jarringly icy tone he used paired with a slight elevation in his normal volume made her instinctively take a step backward.

  “As I’ve said before, I can understand your bitterness for what was done to ya. Do nah foolishly think tha ya were the first to be bitten without a choice in the matter...” he snarled.

  The fire in his eyes at those words captivated her. She flinched in surprise as realization hit. She had never even thought to ask – but he continued before she could try.

  “... or tha ya will be the last.” Already feeling guilty for speaking to her so harshly, he stopped and took a moment to reign himself in. When he went on, a bit of the edge was gone from his voice. “It simply bothers me tha ya were deprived of the opportunity to learn why your Maker took ya in such a manner. Tha is the old way. It is nah done in tha fashion now. But there was a time... long ago... when there was great need...”

  His voice gradually softened as he averted his eyes. She knew that – once again – she had nearly made him say more than he intended.

  “But ya are a woman, so I do nah understand...” he muttered.

  He seemed to be talking to himself more than to her now, his eyes focusing on some point in the distance through the window as the wheels of his mind turned. She leaned against the counter and studied him, her curiosity piqued. She could feel her hold on the brief flaring of anger slipping.

  “Ya see, our kind next to ne’er give the bite to a woman,” Taran finally breathed. “In fact, it is forbidden to do so. It has only happened twice tha I know of.”

  He chose to omit the fact that women were thought to be unable to sustain the change. Considering that neither of the two he had just mentioned had survived, he did not want to frighten – or more likely – enrage Skye with the knowledge of her odds. He ran a hand over his beard and continued staring out the window, feeling her eyes on him the entire time.

  “So, for this faol to turn ya, a woman, in a crowd as he did, without so much as speaking to ya beforehand...” he thought aloud before shaking his head. “It just does nah fit. There has to be more to the picture than what I am seeing.” After a moment, he rolled his eyes and added in disgust, “Unless, of course, he was just a fool pup tha got away from his pack.”

  The thought sickened him. A pup giving the bite? It was blasphemy. Entire packs could be wiped out in retaliation for such a profane act. You never allowed a pup to wander freely without a full understanding of what it meant to be Tàcharan Faol. You instilled in them the knowledge of how to select a suitable candidate. Even then, their pack had to agree to the new member beforehand.

  Skye blinked several times and stood up slightly realizing that she had gone from anger to intrigue in about two seconds flat. She was staring at him and hanging on every word instead of screaming. A desperate search for any hint of anger within her turned up nothing.

  Damn him, she thought and sighed in frustration at her apparent fate to be civil with this man.

  “Well, at least we know that’s not the case,” she said bitterly. “Miko and the others said this guy is an ancient. His name is Drostan and they were all clueless as to why he was even there.”

  She chanced a look in Taran’s direction a second later, at first fearful that her eyes would somehow get stuck on him again, but her brows drew together in confusion when she had to turn to find him. Apparently, her words had struck a nerve because he was no longer standing in front of her. Instead, he was walking around the counter toward her, his head tilted to the side and face twisted in absolute bewilderment as he closed the distance between them.

  “Drostan? Is tha what they said?” He asked slowly. His eyes were burning into hers intensely, searching for any hint of uncertainty she might have in her words.

  Skye swallowed hard under the intensity of his gaze.

  “Yeah... why?” She managed weakly. As usual, his sudden proximity stole all power from her voice.

  “And they were sure of this?” He pressed.

  The concern in his features made Skye shift her weight nervously from one foot to the other.

  “Why don’t you just ask Miko yourself? He’s walking down the hall now,” she breathed.

  Taran’s eyes narrowed in on hers as his senses checked their surroundings to confirm it.

  The instant before Miko pushed the door, Taran was talking to him. He hated when they did that. Couldn’t they pretend that they weren’t able to hear you coming a mile away for the sake of not creeping you out?

  “How sure are ya tha her Maker was Drostan?” Taran demanded.

  “Oh, we’re positive,” Miko assured as he struggled to haul his bags to the counter. “Nobody can mistake that man’s face and eyes,” he said with a shudder and got to work pulling his laptop free.

  Taran grunted his agreement. Drostan was a severe looking man. His hypnotic eyes and high cheekbones had given him a frightening appearance even before he had been changed.

  “We’ve come across him once or twice before. He seems to keep an eye on the fògaraich over in the States for whatever reason, so our paths cross occasionally. He never gives us the time of day, mind you, but we were at least able to get his name and discern from his rank that he’s likely just as old as you are,” Miko said as he set up his webcam and satellite dish. He barely looked up at Taran and Skye as he opened a medical bag containing needles, vials, tubing, and more.

  Skye arched a brow at the items, but kept her mouth shut. She was far more concerned with Taran’s reaction to the identity of her ‘Maker’. Before she could voice the questions forming in her mind, Miko beat her to the punch.

  “What’s the deal? You and Drostan know each other or something? Used to hang out with Jesus in the good old biblical days and shoot hoops?” He teased as he battled with a mess of wires and adaptors. He was fishing for another lecture of, ‘for the last time, Lance, I did nah know Chreest!’

  “Aye... I know him, all right,” Taran answered. Seeing the pleased grin that Miko flashed him, he added in frustration, “I meant Drostan, nah your Chreest. Ya know, just because we were alive at the same time does nah mean tha I ever met him,” he insisted.

  Miko fought to suppress his laughter and held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry dude, I know it’s a touchy subject. Won’t happen again,” he offered unconvincingly.

  Had Taran not currently been so thunderstruck, he would have taken the bait and argued with Miko.

  “But I do know Drostan...” he continued instead. “He’s a good man, a fierce faol. We knew one another in the days when mortal blood still coursed through these veins. He would nah change another unless there was no other choice. There’s something I’m nah seeing here. Tell me what happened, how did he come to meet with Skye?” He asked as he leaned against the counter beside her.

  Miko snorted a laugh at that. “All he h
ad to do was stand still – she sorta launched herself at him.”

  Taran’s eyes widened and he cast her an appraising look.

  “Ya... why would ya... ?” He tried, but finally sighed and rubbed his forehead in confusion. “Let’s back it up a bit. What led to tha?”

  “We got word that there was a coven in the area snatching up more than the usual drunken club patrons for dinner. The media was buzzing about the strange series of disappearances and deaths, so we followed the panic as always. We had just moved in for the takedown when I saw this hot little blonde chick sitting at the bar, downing vodka like water.”

  At that, Taran cast another appraising look at Skye.

  “I mean like ‘screw the glass, give me the whole bottle’ type drinking,” Miko assured. “Obviously not a blood-drinker, not behaving like any licker I’d ever seen, so I moved in to get her out of there.”

  Skye looked around the room guiltily, knowing that Miko’s retelling of this event would not be flattering.

  “First she called me a... what was it again?” Miko asked and grinned at how hard she was trying to avoid his gaze. “Oh yeah, a ‘fuck-mook’ and told me that ‘one asshole’ in her pants was enough. Then she gave me those crazy eyes. See, her eyes do this thing when she gets pissed where the yellow in them goes all freaky and damned near covers the blue. After spooking the hell outta me with that, she told me to ‘step off’ and I mean to tell you I was...”

  Taran held up a hand and looked at him doubtfully.

  “I meant for ya to tell me what happened before Drostan arrived,” he reminded as if talking to a child.

  “I am telling you what happened before Drostan got there!” Miko growled in annoyance. “Ain’t you been paying attention? Why do I even talk?” He huffed before continuing his story, oblivious to the astonishment on Taran’s face. “So anyway, I just about wet myself because your little friend over there was gearing up to introduce me to her vodka bottle on an intimate level... if you catch my drift... and then her... ”