Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel

by Alisha Ashton

  “Ya know tha argument may have worked a wee bit better an hour ago,” he said with a smirk. “But it does nah hold up so well now tha I’ve seen ya scaling a sheer wall as effortlessly as an ancient.”

  Skye rolled her eyes and glared off into the distance.

  “I just...” she began, shaking her head angrily. “I feel like I know him – like I’ve always known him. What’s messed up is that I think my wolf is pushing me toward him because, without her feelings on the matter, I’d have stayed away from him. You, on the other hand, she knew that I’d follow my own instincts with. It didn’t stop her from getting it on with you before I had owned up to wanting to, of course, but she left me alone the rest of the time.”

  Taran grinned. “Well, as I said before, she does seem to have great judgment. If ya see the logic behind her actions where I’m concerned, perhaps ya should trust her advisements aboot Ciaran.”

  He pulled her closer to him, looking down into her eyes deeply.

  “Tell me. What is it ya feel for him?” His voice sounded strange suddenly, breathy and rough.

  Skye had never heard him speak like this before. She watched in surprise as his eyes took on a golden hue.

  At first, she did not understand that his wolf was speaking to the one behind her own suddenly yellow eyes. At least, not until her wolf responded.

  “Ciaran belongs to me. He is my dark one, my friend and lover. He is mine and no other’s,” her wolf replied in that ethereal voice.

  Instantly, Skye’s eyes faded back to blue. Her tone returned to normal as she threw her hands up in frustration.

  “Son of a bitch! Stop answering for me!” She growled at the beast within her.

  Taran laughed and gave her a sympathetic hug.

  “The sooner ya accept tha this is a part of ya and nah some other person, the better off you’ll be. If ya listen to the guidance your wolf gives, take the new instincts into consideration before making up your mind, she’ll nah need to speak without your approval. She must be heard and will nah allow her words to go unnoticed. Ya are already a fierce faol, my love, but once ya allow the Nasgadh –” he began, but paused, thinking of the translation for the word. “Or rather, the Joining to take place, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

  Skye let out a little ‘humph’ as she considered his words.

  “How long is it supposed to be before a faol can do this ‘Nasgadh’ thing?” She asked suspiciously.

  “Well, tha all depends, really. Are ya asking aboot an ‘average, every day, run-of-the-mill faol’?” He teased and she scowled in response. “Several decades,” he answered reluctantly.

  When her mouth dropped open, a rant about to tumble from her lips, he quickly went on.

  “But let us nah forget, ya should nah have been able to transform at any time besides the full moon until tha age, either. According to what’s left of my Jaguar, I’d say ya already accomplished tha much of it,” he reminded.

  Skye gave him a sheepish look. “Ooh... sorry about your car.”

  Taran arched a brow. “Are ya kidding me? Tha thing is worth far more to me now than it ever was before. In fact, I’m saving it just the way it is. They were to have it picked up today, but I’ve instead had it put in the garage for safekeeping. It’s quite the testament to the passion and fire of our first tryst,” he growled with a grin.

  “You know,” she began coyly as she walked her fingers up his chest. “You still have to take me through a play by play of what I can’t remember,” she reminded and smiled at the intrigue that passed over his features at the suggestion.

  “Mmm, and once we get some time alone in the garage, I’ll be sure to do just tha,” he promised in a husky tone, taking her arm in his and starting off down the hall with her. “But for now, if it’s nah too much to ask, I’d like to introduce ya to some of your clansmen without ya breaking any more of their jaws, noses, arms or the like.”

  She smirked up at him.

  “I’ll try,” she offered. “But I make no promises.”

  They descended the stairs into a swarm of awestricken faoil.

  Evidently, a great deal of additional men had arrived since her trip upstairs. Word of her wall-scaling antics had spread like wildfire to the new arrivals. All of her new clansmen had already been eager for Taran to make the introductions, simply because she was the first female to survive the change. In the wake of the day’s events, however, they were now staring at her in absolute veneration.

  She tried not to let it bother her too much as Taran introduced her to more men than she ever hoped to recall the names of. Nearly half an hour later, she was wondering if by the age of 4,000+ years, her memory would be as sharp as his apparently was.

  With as crowded as the halls were, she did not see Miko coming until it was too late. She had only spotted his inbound grinning face and managed a, “no, no, no!” before he swept her into a crushing hug. Her body went rigid in response.

  The mob of faoil froze at the sight. Unless given express consent, it was a grievous offense to touch a woman claimed by one of their ancients in such a familiar fashion. All conversation died out as they looked to Taran for an indication of whether they would need to punish the mortal for his actions.

  Taran simply laughed at the adorable scowl on Skye’s face and crossed his arms over his chest. His amusement calmed the others. “It would seem ya have a fan, my love,” he observed and she rolled her eyes.

  “My hero!” Miko sighed as he rocked her.

  For the hundredth time since the incident, Skye cursed herself for giving away her wish for him to live.

  “Umm... you’re welcome. Now get the fuck off me,” she grumbled and wriggled out of his grasp. Dropping to a more private tone – which the faoil across the entryway could still hear with ease, of course – she warned, “And there will be no hugging, damn it! I might not want you dead, but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly your willing snuggle-buddy. You want to thank me for saving your ass? Go get me a bottle of hooch or something.”

  “How about food?” He offered hopefully. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry. Beating up guys three times your size, hopping over cars, and climbing walls is bound to work up a girl’s appetite, am I right? Come on, I’ll make you something to eat,” he said as he tugged on her hand.

  She scowled at Taran as he nudged her closer to her ‘fan’.

  Pushing the doors to the wide hallway which led to the kitchen revealed even more faoil packed in shoulder to shoulder. Despite the magnitude of the castle, their numbers were reaching the point where she wondered how they would all fit. There was already a veritable army of them and she had overheard Taran mentioning that they would continue to pour in for the next day or so.

  “Go ahead, Miko. We’re right behind you,” she called as she pulled her hand free from his. When he turned and gave her a dejected look that plainly stated that he thought he was being ditched, she added, “I promise, we’ll catch up. Just give me a second, all right?”

  With a reluctant sigh, he went on without them.

  “Taran?” She called and he nodded that he was coming.

  After excusing himself from the conversation he had been having, he followed her to the wall. It provided as much privacy from the others as they were going to get. She motioned for him to lean down so that she could talk in his ear. With the amount of people around, it was the only way to assure they could hear one another without yelling.

  “Where are all of these guys gonna sleep?” She asked. “They’re not gonna have to pitch tents out on the grounds or anything, right?”

  He gave her a warm smile and shook his head, leaning down close to her ear. “Ya know the east and west wings?”

  She nodded. Those would be the wings of the castle that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The same parts that made her realize upon arrival that getting lost here might result in death by starvation.

  “We designed those sections as barracks for the men,” he explained. “They are for oc
casions such as this, where the clan is all gathered here. Those wings can comfortably accommodate...” He drew a hand over his beard and thought about it for a second, trying to recall the exact number. “I believe it was just over 800,000 men.”

  Her eyes bulged. “But... there can’t... I mean, that’s just some serious overkill, right? Like a ‘worst case scenario’ or something? There can’t really be 800,000 faoil in the world.”

  “Why nah?” Taran asked in confusion.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” She demanded in whispered panic. “How can there be that many?”

  He laughed at the obviousness of the answer, but happily explained it for her benefit. “We’ve been around for more than 4,000 years, wee one. Each time the bite is given, an immortal is created. While we lost a great number of our kind in the beginning...” He trailed off momentarily, sighing at the memories that statement brought back and hoping that she would not press the issue. “We have nah lost more than a handful since. Is it really so surprising tha our numbers could reach such a point after so many years?”

  Skye frowned as she thought it through. It averaged out to around 200 faoil being turned per year. Given the fact that there were well over 6.75 billion people alive in the world at that moment alone, and the clan had been out there recruiting in every country for so many centuries, the total suddenly seemed less drastic than she initially thought it to be. Another quick equation made it feel more realistic. Only one in about every 8,437 people in the world was a faol.

  “Okay, I see your point,” she conceded. “But they’re not all coming here, right? I mean not now?” She asked hopefully.

  Taran placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze of support. “It is a reunion, wee one, just a meeting to discuss recent developments.”

  Her mouth hung open uselessly for a moment.

  “Oh, just a reunion, you say? Just a meeting to discuss ‘recent developments’?” She finally repeated nonchalantly before her features twisted in bewilderment. “You mean me !” She screeched, thumping a fist to her chest. “I’m the recent development! Are you seriously telling me that close to a million dudes just up and jumped on planes around the world to come here because of ME?”

  Taran tilted his head to the side, wondering why this was so astonishing to her. She was, in his mind, worth every bit of such attention. “It’s nah as though it’s a bother, my love. They all wish to see ya. Do nah worry aboot it. Ya need to meet your new family anyway.”

  Skye stared up at him in disbelief. “Not all in the span of a few days, I don’t!” She insisted. “800,000? I would have to meet...” She closed her eyes, doing the math frantically in her head. “One per second for the next 9.26 days straight!”

  In a nervous habit that always helped her mind to cope with stressful situations, she continued spouting off equations to make the number seem more manageable. Unfortunately, the more she calculated, the more stressful the image became.

  “If they’re flying commercial, they’re taking Boeings and those seat like 330 per plane. So it will take... more than 2,424 planes to get them here!” She clutched her chest, imagining a runway stretching out into the horizon, all of the planes side by side with men pouring out of every one. “And 800,000 is like... 12 times the amount of guys that could have crammed into the Vet! Hell, it’s more than half the population of the entire city of Philadelphia!” She cried.

  Taran frowned. While he recalled hearing of ‘Philadelphia’ back when the States were barely more than colonies, he wondered a bit about ‘the Vet’ and what it might be. He decided to keep it to himself. If he questioned every unfamiliar reference he heard pups make, he would have time for little else. Still, he wished Ciaran were close by to provide a quick explanation for him. His eyes searched the crowd hopefully for his brother – until Skye’s fearful whisper brought his head back around in an instant.

  “Oh God, I can’t, Taran... I can’t do this!” She breathed as she shook her head frantically and took a step back.

  Interacting with Miko and Taran, just two people at the same time, was still taking a lot of getting used to after so many years alone. Finding the halls as full as they were now was already freaking her out. The knowledge that this was just the tip of the iceberg had her fending off a panic attack. She hated crowds. They made her feel edgy, on guard, nervous. The anxiety likely stemmed from the fact that – for ten years of her life – crowds had meant feeding frenzies.

  Three guesses as to who had been on the menu during those bloody soirées.

  Taran’s brows drew together concernedly as he listened to her thundering heart. Pulling her to his chest, he pressed his lips to her forehead, shushing her as she held on tightly. He frowned at the way her body was suddenly trembling fearfully.

  “Hey, hey... come now, wee one, relax. It will nah be so bad, I promise,” he soothed as she closed her eyes and fought to slow her breathing. Despite his concern for her, he was marveling at the significance of her actions in that moment. For the first time, she was allowing him to comfort her – to hold her to him and ease her fears even with so many others in the area. “Tha’s it, calm down,” he said softly as he kissed her brow. “I’m going to be with ya the whole time, all right? I’ll nah leave your sight unless ya feel up to exploring on your own, I give ya my word. And I’m sure the number will nah seem so troubling once ya meet them. Besides, ya should nah become so fixated on tha number. Ya must keep in mind tha we built this castle many centuries ago and tha was purely an estimate of how much space we would need. It is possible tha our numbers are well beyond tha by now, in which case the men will be staying here in the main wing, as well.”

  “Oh, really? More than 800,000, you say? Well, thanks. In that case, I feel a whole lot better,” she muttered sarcastically against his shoulder.

  With a chuckle, he held her out at arm’s length.

  “But it will still be all right. And why is tha?” He coaxed.

  She averted her eyes, grumbling the response he was fishing for halfheartedly under her breath. “Because you’ll be with me.”

  “What was tha?” He asked, cupping a hand to his ear and leaning closer. “Ya have to speak up. I’m afraid I did nah quite catch it.”

  Skye fought to suppress a smirk.

  “Because you’ll be with me,” she repeated, finally losing the battle and smiling up at him.

  “Well, would ya look at tha, the lass can smile after all!” He teased, tapping the end of her nose with his finger. “You’re correct. It will be all right because I’m going to be with ya. Ya are my mate, my love, my wee one – stay by me and I promise I’ll nah let a thing happen to ya. Keep tha in your mind and in your heart if ya feel nervous. Can ya do tha for me?” He waited as she took a deep breath and nodded that she could. “Good. Also, try to remember tha these men are your family,” he reminded.

  “Oh yes, because – in my personal experience – that’s always guaranteed my safety,” she offered cynically.

  Taran gave her a disapproving frown for the remark, but said nothing. If making light of what had happened in her past helped her to cope, then so be it.

  “As I was saying,” he continued with a sigh as he ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “They are your family. Ya just happen to have a great deal more relatives than most are ever blessed with,” he said with a wink. “They’re your clansmen, coming to welcome ya and prepare for what’s to come now tha ya have arrived.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. She had a million things to grill him about and decided that this was a good lead-in.

  “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘now that I’ve arrived’?” She asked. “What difference would my being here make to the clan’s future?”

  Realizing his slip, he scrunched up his face, bit his lip, and tried to work out a safe response.

  “If I ask ya to trust my assurance tha all will be made clear to ya soon, will ya forgive me for nah answering tha?” He tried.

  “That depends
,” Skye said and scowled at him for a moment. “Would you get into a lot of trouble for answering me?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “And it won’t be too long, like less than a week, before I get some answers?” She pressed.

  “Ya have my word, wee one,” he offered sincerely.

  After considering it, she finally huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “All right, fine,” she sighed. “But I’ll have you know, the only reason you’re getting away with this is because you’re so damned cute.”

  His eyes widened in surprise.

  “Cute, eh?” He asked, backing her up against the wall and placing a hand beside her head. His gray eyes studied her face as he smiled with a mix of arousal and amusement. “Ya know, I do nah believe I’ve ever had a woman call me tha before.”

  Her body, recalling the positions it had been tangled in with his a just a short time ago, sprang every nerve to full attention as he pressed against her.

  “That’s because you’ve never had a woman like me before,” she countered breathlessly as he leaned down to kiss her.

  “My love, there has never been a woman like ya before,” he whispered sweetly against her lips.

  The meet-and-greets continued the second they set out again through the crowded hall toward the kitchen. It was difficult for her to come to terms with the amount of attention her presence (existence) was receiving from the Tàcharain Fhaol Clan. She knew damned well that a fògarach getting the bite never caused a species-wide welcoming party.

  There were men from around the world here already, numerous accents and languages busily gabbing away on all sides of her. She noted that, just as the Ashers had documented, the ancients of highest rank were all Scots or Irish. When introduced to packs from Spain or France or Germany, for example, the leaders still sounded like they had been born right next door (did they even have doors back then?) to either to Taran or Ciaran.

  And they Just. Kept. Coming.

  The precession of pups, elders and ancients was seemingly endless. Each moment brought on more introductions, more smiling faces, more expressions of how ‘pleased’ or ‘honored’ the men were to meet her, more words about how rare she was, and more uses of the dreaded title ‘Lady Skye’. The commotion was making her feel increasingly out of place, like she was being seen as separate instead of equal.