Everyone else in the room could only stare at her in shock.
“How dare you? Who are you to touch him?” She snarled with her mouth mere inches from his face. She was baring her teeth as she spoke in the same manner as Taran. The reason for it was clear to her now: the instinct of the wolf was to bite when enraged.
Were she not seeing red, she would have wanted to walk away at this point – to keep the protective instincts she felt for Miko under wraps. Unfortunately, she could not think beyond the rage. Her temper had been flaring before she passed this room. Seeing someone trying to harm Miko had brought her violent tendencies shrieking to the surface.
“... just... an... Asher,” the faol choked out before her grip cut off his ability to speak.
“No!” She screamed and slammed his head off the wall furiously for the presumption that Miko was ‘just’ anything.
His body went limp and eyes closed for a second as the impact threatened to steal his consciousness.
Her eyes were becoming crazed, the yellow was raging – rolling like storm clouds across the blue, slowly but surely overtaking it altogether. Listening to the violent side, to the wolf as it added its own rage to the mix, she began lifting him off the floor by his throat.
He wheezed and gasped, frantically trying to pry her fingers from where they were blocking his airway. His eyes bulged fearfully as he stared down at her. His feet were no longer touching the floor.
“Miko is not ‘just’ an Asher,” she growled. Even as she spoke, she could hear her voice changing. The words of two beings, woman and wolf, were being relayed. “He is a man who fought by my side, which is more than I can say for any of you. He is a man who did what he thought was necessary to protect me when he stood to gain nothing from it. He is a guest on these lands, a friend to Taran, a friend to me, the only reason I’m here, and you think you can disrespect him?”
Her eyes flared to a merciless yellow as her rage reached its peak.
In the eerily calm voice of the wolf, she declared, “I should kill you right now.” She tilted her head to the side, watching his reaction with morbid interest as she began crushing his windpipe. “You will be an example for the others.”
The rest of the faoil watched in disbelief as his face changed from red to blue. He fought against her grip in absolute blind panic. His boots slid against the stone wall behind him, uselessly seeking purchase as he clawed at her hand.
“You should be thankful that you were the first offender, Donnach,” her wolf informed him.
A stir of surprised whispers rippled through the crowd of faoil. No one had mentioned his name to her.
“After you fade away, you will return – eventually,” her wolf went on coolly, disinterested in their reaction. She was not straining in the least to control him as he fought against her for his life. “But how long will that take, I wonder? A day? A week? For how long will your body lie still, as nothing more than a corpse, Donnach? What will it feel like? To be touched by death? To be dead? Will it change you somehow, I wonder?” She breathed curiously. “But eventually, you will return. Be thankful for that. The next one who makes your mistake will not be so lucky.”
Donnach’s eyes began rolling back in his head, struggling to focus on her. His efforts to pry her hand from his throat were growing weaker.
“Your head is pounding now. Your eyes are throbbing. So much pressure is building up. So many cells screaming and pleading for oxygen, for life...” she whispered in intrigue as she watched the fight leaving him. “You have not known fear like this since you were a mortal, have you? But your vision is dimming. The black tunnel is closing in around the world. My voice sounds so distant to your ears now. It means the darkness is coming for you, Donnach, and it will claim you soon.”
He could not help the terror surging through him in that moment. Just as she described, he was beginning to lose consciousness. Even though his immortality guaranteed that his heart would eventually start beating again, she was voicing his precise fears about the issue.
What was it going to feel like to die and then come back? Would it be like sleep, or something terrifying and painful? At his age, how long would it take for him to revive? None of the ancients ever discussed the times they had experienced death. What had they seen in the darkness?
Despite his steadily rising terror at the death that was so close to taking him, Donnach dared not strike her. Were he to assault Lord Taran’s mate, even in self-defense, his brothers would retaliate in ways that would make his current predicament seem like a pleasant dream.
“What’s going on in here?” Drostan demanded as he cut through the group of younger faoil.
Not one ancient was present in the area aside from him. That spelled trouble. When the young gathered together like this, it meant a confrontation was underway. Ordinarily, he would have left them to it. Posturing and using violence to settle disputes was a part of every day life for their kind. But he had followed Miko’s scent to this room. And if a confrontation was going on involving the mortal, he felt a need to intercede on the poor bloke’s behalf.
“Are ya deaf, whelp?” Drostan snarled. He gripped the man closest to him by the back of the neck and forced him to meet his gaze. “I asked ya a question. Ya would do well to answer.”
Maon looked at him in dazed disbelief. “We... we were s’posed to be protecting her, Lord Drostan. Tha’s what Latharn told us, he did. But I do nah think there’s a need.”
At the word ‘her’, Drostan’s eyes widened and his head spun toward the center of the crowd. Frantically, he began forcing his way to the front. When he focused on the spectacle that had so many faoil stunned speechless, his eyes widened in horror.
“Skye, don’t!” He called as he shoved his way past the remaining men and raced to her side. “It’s all right, my sister... just... just let him go,” he pleaded, but she was neither aware nor interested in his presence. Getting a firm grip on her shoulders, he began trying to pull her away from the man that she was choking. After several labored attempts, he finally managed to haul her away.
Skye shook violently with outrage as he pinned her arms behind her back. She watched furiously as Donnach crumpled to the floor. While he clutched at his throat and gasped for air, her human side slowly began to regain control. Even still, she felt the wolf’s presence in her thoughts, in her blood. It refused to sleep now, to stay in the silence of her mind.
“Are ya all right, Donnach?” Drostan asked as he held her back.
“Fine...” Donnach wheezed unconvincingly between coughs.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Skye growled as she shook her way out of Drostan’s grasp and glared around the room. “All of you, listen up! I’m only going to say this once. If I see anyone so much as give Miko a look that borders on insolence, they’ll answer to me. This is my first and only warning, do I make myself perfectly fucking clear?” She snarled.
The group of thunderstruck faoil all emphatically nodded their complete and total understanding.
“Good. And you,” she snapped, turning back to Donnach and pointing down at him angrily. “Apologize and then make yourself scarce. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you.”
Donnach eyed her nervously. He was still lying in a heap on the floor, clutching his throat, and wondering what the hell had just happened. He had been told this girl was a pup. His aching throat and inability to fend her off sure as hell did not agree with that assessment. The fact that Drostan was calling her ‘sister’ was also extremely troubling. It was a title of respect beyond what her age entitled her to. What Drostan was actually saying was that he saw her as an equal, despite his status as an ancient. It was unheard of. The fact that it had taken Drostan more than a few attempts to restrain her had been duly noted. With all of this in mind, Donnach slowly managed to climb to his unsteady feet. He walked over to the laptop, picked it up, and ensured that it was not damaged before holding it out to Miko.
“I’m... umm...” He looked back at tho
se enraged blue and yellow eyes and cleared his aching throat. “I’m real sorry aboot tha. Was just busting your stones, ya know? Hope you’ll nah take it to heart,” he offered self-consciously as he handed the computer over.
Miko was still standing with his mouth hanging open, just as he had been since Skye launched herself at the jolly green giant on his behalf.
So... apparently she isn’t mad about the tranquilizer darts, he thought in astonishment.
He blinked repeatedly, shaking his head to get his brain to function before looking up at the apologetic faol. “Uh, yeah. I mean, no harm, no foul, right? We’re cool. It’s squashed,” he said with a nervous nod. He returned his attention to Skye as Donnach ducked out of the room.
“Skye, what... ?” Drostan tried, but she held up a finger in front of his face. Paired with the furious glare she gave, it was enough to silence him.
“Oh no – you?” She said with a dangerous laugh. “You don’t get to talk to me for a little while, k? I’m still not sure how I feel about us standing so close after our last encounter,” she warned before turning and stalking away from him.
The rest of the men quickly stepped aside to let her through the door, eager to avoid drawing her notice. The room stood in stunned silence for a moment after she was gone. No one had a clue what to say in the wake of what they had just witnessed.
“Owww! Chreest!” A man howled in pain out in the hall.
“Stop following me, Onchu!” Skye screamed.
The men all winced sympathetically for the unfortunate bastards that had been posted as her guards.
“She’s from Philly,” Miko offered.
Dozens of bewildered faces slowly turned toward him.
“I don’t know if that... you know... means anything to you guys,” he continued as Drostan smirked. “Anyways, it was good meeting you all. If you don’t mind, I think I’m just gonna go hide up in my room now,” he said sheepishly as he gathered his belongings and made a swift exit.
The trek across several wings and upstairs to his room revealed that word traveled extremely fast among the faoil ranks. Everyone that Miko passed inclined their head to him respectfully, which was unsettling to say the very least. Where was the retaliation for Donnach’s public humiliation? Where were the muttered threats and discrete dirty looks? Similarly to when Skye had been calm in her faol form or when Taran had failed to pound his face in for the darts, Miko found himself wishing they would just hurry up and attack him already. In his experience, the anticipation of a beating was the worst part.
No such luck of these behemoths disregarding Skye’s threat, though. In fact, two of them actually asked if they could help him carry his stuff up the steps. After stammering that he could handle it, he scampered away as fast as possible, casting nervous looks over his shoulder at them until he had gotten to the upper level. Nearly 20 minutes later, he turned the corner to the hall of his bedroom. He was beyond relieved that he would finally be safe from these disturbingly friendly faoil.
Unfortunately, it was precisely then that a short, dark haired man pulled a leap frog over him – as in: the man was running, spotted Miko at the last second, jumped, and cleared him effortlessly despite him being in a standing position.
Miko managed to breathe a thoroughly impressed ‘Whoa!’ watching the man sail overhead...
Before the 200+ pounds of Scottish muscle that had been following closely behind plowed into him like a freight train. The impact sent Miko careening across the floor, headfirst into a wall.
As you may have guessed, it was lights-out, folks.
Miko awoke a short time later to the sound of his own groaning. He struggled to open his eyes when he heard motion beside him. Through the fog of a possible concussion, he could make out the vague form of a man with dark hair leaning over him.
“Oi! Ink-for-brains!” The Irishman called as he shook Miko’s shoulder. “Time to rise and shine, bud,” he urged. When Miko failed to respond, the man turned away and addressed someone else. “Ya know, the halls were never so littered with unconscious people in need of rousing during my Guardianship,” he teased before lowering his voice. “D’ya think he’ll live?” He whispered worriedly.
“He’ll be just fine,” the familiar voice of a Scotsman assured.
“Yeah?” The Irishman asked hopefully. “Oh good,” he breathed in relief. “Hey – did ya hear tha, bud?” He asked, leaning over Miko again and pulling one of his eyelids open. “You’re gonna live! It’s a bloody miracle! Now wake your ugly ass up, ya dosser.”
The Scotsman laughed at that, but said nothing.
“Man do I nah miss being mortal,” the Irishman mused as he sat back on his heels. “Such a fragile way to be, don’t ya think? Ya never know what they’ll survive. I can nah even brawl at the pubs for fear I’ll break one of them.”
“Well, do nah worry for this one. He’s taken harder hits from me than he did from tha wall,” the Scotsman assured before leaning over Miko and slapping his cheek repeatedly. “Come on, Lance. Wake up. Nap time’s over.”
“Tar?” Miko asked groggily as he tried to focus on him.
“Aye,” Taran laughed. “Least ya’ve nah lost your memory. Here, sit up,” he said as he leaned him against the wall. “How are ya feeling?”
“Like I just got run over by a quarter ton of Angus beef,” Miko whined.
The Irishman burst out laughing. “Perhaps a diet is in order, brother!” He teased before grinning over at Miko. “Ya know what? I like this one. He’s got fire. D’ya mind if I bite him?” He asked Taran hopefully.
Miko’s eyes snapped open in horror.
The Irishman crouching beside him only laughed harder. “Just playing, bud – but hey, it woke ya up, yeah?” He asked as he smacked Miko’s shoulder playfully.
Miko eyed him suspiciously until Taran drew his attention.
“I’m sorry to tell ya this, but I do nah think your computer has survived,” he said, dragging the case over and shaking it. He smirked at the sound of pieces rattling inside. “Ya did hit tha wall pretty hard.”
“Son of a... !” Miko wailed before grabbing the case, clutching it to his chest protectively, and glaring up at Taran. “What is it with you guys and destroying my stuff?”
“Someone else tossed ya against a wall today then, did they, bud?” The Irishman asked in amusement.
“No,” Miko answered glumly. He whimpered as he unzipped the case and watched half of the computer’s screen fall out. “Someone knocked my laptop on the floor, tried to pummel me, but got himself embedded in a wall by Skye for it.”
“What? Just now? And I missed it?” The Irishman cried.
“Quiet, Ciaran!” Taran pleaded, holding his hand up and turning back to Miko. “Who did Skye put into a wall?”
“Some big tart, I think his name was ‘Donnach’ or something like that,” Miko answered before tossing his busted computer aside in defeat.
“Holy shite, he’s got what? Six centuries on her?” Ciaran asked in astonishment. “Nah to mention he’s easily triple her weight. Damn, I can nah believe I missed tha,” he groaned before shoving Taran. “See what I get for playing around with you?” He complained.
“What happened exactly?” Taran asked, ignoring Ciaran as he checked the impressive lump forming on the top of Miko’s head.
“What I already told you,” he said, hissing in pain and scowling as Taran continued surveying his injuries.
“You’ll have to repeat it, I’m afraid. Seems this castle air is having detrimental effects on me brother’s hearing,” Ciaran said, grinning victoriously when his words earned an arched brow from Taran.
“Fine... owww!” Miko yelped, pulling away from Taran’s inspection and rubbing the knot on his head. “Easy, Nurse Ratched! Try not to prod the concussion, would you?”
With a knowing smirk, Ciaran leaned closer to Taran and muttered behind a hand, “That’d be a reference to a psycho nurse in a novel tha came out about fifty years ago.”
Taran no
dded his appreciation for the explanation.
“Though I’m betting our boyo here just watched the flick with Nicholson. Ain’t that right, inky?” Ciaran teased, slugging him in the arm.
“Ouch! Damn it, would you guys please remember that I don’t heal in two minutes?” Miko cried and shot Taran a sour look, pointing over at Ciaran and asking, “Is he always this annoying?”
Ciaran smiled triumphantly, turning toward his brother and expectantly awaiting his response.
“Wish I could tell ya otherwise, but I’m afraid this is but the tip of the iceberg,” Taran sighed. “Now go on, tell me aboot what happened with Skye and Donnach.”
“Well, Donnach was being an asshole,” Miko began.
“Pfft, there’s a news flash for ya,” Ciaran muttered and instantly held up his hands when Taran glared over at him.
Miko watched the two impatiently, trying to gauge whether or not it was safe to continue. “Anyway, he was about to beat me senseless, but Skye must have walked in just as he reached for me. Believe me, she was pissed. I told you she has a temper. When she snaps she frigging snaps. I mean like, Skye had most definitely left the building. She charged him, forced him all the way to the other end of the room and choke-slammed him right against the wall.”
Ciaran could not suppress his laughter at that point and clapped until it earned an annoyed scowl from Taran. He cleared his throat guiltily and silenced his celebration. “Right, then what happened?” He asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
“If Drostan hadn’t jumped in there and dragged her off the guy, she might have actually killed him. Hell, she told him she was going to do it – as an ‘example for the others’ or something. Said it in a really creepy voice, too. After that, she put out this like faoil-wide warning that I’m off limits. Weird thing is, it actually worked. I mean Drostan had already told them that you invited me here, but they were still messing with me. Skye forbids them from giving me a hard time and suddenly I’m being treated like family. All of the guys were nice to me on the way up here. But then – WHAM! – the Angus Express hits and here I sit to tell the tale.”
Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel Page 36