Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2

by Denise Tompkins

  We came back together with an inaudible pop. The little jaunt had left me with temporary vertigo, and Hellion caught me as I staggered, my heels sliding precariously across an uneven stone floor, snagging in the wide seams.

  “Sorry, love. The longer the trip, the longer it will take you to gather your bearings once we arrive. I should have warned you, though you managed the trip to Ireland quite well.”

  I shook my head, clutching his arm as the room righted itself and I regained my feet. “No problem. I’m going to assume you didn’t see our visitor just as we left the bathroom. If you did, you’re being very calm.”

  Hellion’s whipped around to face me, grabbing me by my shoulders. “What visitor?” He gave me a little shake before I could answer.

  “Easy,” I said, reaching up to pry his hands from my shoulders lest they become welded there. “Where are we, Hellion?”

  “Ballinlough Castle, Maddy. For the love of country, if you don’t tell me what you’ve seen, I’m going to—”

  “What, exactly, are you going to do?” I growled. “Get your hands off me if you’re tending toward violence, Hellion.”

  He finally relaxed his grip but he didn’t remove his hands.

  “Gaitha opened the bathroom door just as we began to”—I wiggled my hand through the air—“whatever it is exactly that happens when we dematerialize. But we were far enough gone that she couldn’t seem to reach us, and I couldn’t say anything.”

  “You can’t speak during dematerialization?” he asked, curious.

  “Nope. I would have screamed bloody murder at you and Odin if I’d been able to gather my voice. I’m totally at your mercy when you move me through space like that.” Never thought about it that way, I mused.

  “Hm. I’ll have to take more care. Did you get a good look at Gaitha?” he asked, finally relaxing just a bit.

  “Hardly, but she looked mad, Hellion, and I don’t mean angry. She looked deranged—eyes wide and wild, hair knotted and dirty, clothes ragged. You saw her at the henge at the meeting?”

  He nodded, solemnity settling over his features. “Aye, I did that.”

  “She looked the same.” I shivered at the thought of madness claiming my mind. What would it be like to find yourself trapped inside a dysfunctional psyche and have reality consumed and destroyed like that? Never having given it much thought before, I found it terrified me. I stepped into Hellion and slid my arms around his waist. He drew me close and settled his chin on top of my head.

  Sighing deeply, his voice rumbled through my ear when he spoke. “She’s mad, all right. Any member of the Tuatha Dé Danann with as much power and natural magic as she has, who has lost her mind to the craze, scares the hell out of me. I’m not sure how to best protect us from her.”

  I pulled back from him and looked up to find him staring blankly across the room, his words not uttered for sake of discussion but rather, I thought, to verbalize his fear so we might face it together. “We’re not sure it’s her, Hellion. I still need to speak to Bahlin about the suspicious activity surrounding the gold coins, the gouged dirt, and the shadow-mist that attacked tonight. I absolutely hate to think of him as a suspect, but I have to rule him out, not just dismiss his possible involvement.” My heart constricted, but it wasn’t the same breath-stealing pain that had grabbed me every time I thought of him when I’d believed him dead. “Do you know where Bahlin is?”

  “No. I tried to scry for him as you got ready to go out this evening, to see if he was still at his sister’s home in Scotland, but there was no resolution to the search. He’s cloaking himself or being cloaked by someone of significant magical ability if they can hide from me.” It wasn’t said with arrogance but rather as a statement of simple fact. Was Hellion one of the most powerful magi in the world? Yes. Did he know it? Yes. Did that make him arrogant? Justifiably.

  I wondered at the significance of Bahlin hiding himself from me, and I didn’t like the way the short hairs at the base of my skull stood up. I’d begun to learn not to dismiss those things I seemed to intuit because they were often founded in logic and survival. Did it give me answers to the murders? No, but it helped me cull out legitimate worries, fears and, on occasion, clues. I reached back to massage my tense neck muscles, taking the same opportunity to look around the room we were in. It was a long hall that had been converted to a family room with a large television, gaming tables, a full-size snooker table, multiple sofas and overstuffed chairs. The plaster and beam ceilings were marked with smoke scars above the two hearths. The crystal chandelier was on low, casting dim but glittering light across the uppermost part of the room that became diffused as it drifted lower down the pale walls. Everything about the room combined to speak of immense wealth, yet it was comfortable enough to not be off-putting.

  Neither of the two fireplaces was lit. Noticing my interest in the cold hearth nearest us, Hellion casually flung out a hand, and the fireplace lit with a great whoosh of flame. Taper candles flickered to life around the room, and I flinched. Hellion chuckled.

  “It’s only my Boy Scout badge after all, Maddy.”

  I hunched my shoulders a little, warding off the guilt. “Yeah, sorry about that. Why are we here exactly?”

  “Because I thought taking us to the bedroom directly would have been slightly crass, so I thought it more gentlemanly if we start here and watch a movie together. We can canoodle on the sofa like teenagers if you’d like.”

  I turned, smiling, to look at Hellion, and found him watching me with that same heavy-lidded look he’d given me at the restaurant. Apparently “canoodling” was serious to the Irish. My smile faltered a bit as I stared at him.

  Hands in his pockets, he rocked back and forth slowly, heel to toe, toe to heel, and watched me without comment. When I said nothing, he stopped. “Was I wrong?”

  “No, I appreciate coming here. Did you really say ‘castle’?“ I asked, looking around.

  “I did. It was built back in the 17th century. It’s generally rented out for weddings and other private events, but it was available tonight.” He glanced around the room, proprietarily assessing the condition and quality of the environment as a whole.

  I reached down and unzipped my boots, stepping out of them and wiggling my toes in the plush oriental rug. “A movie would be great. Something funny, maybe? I’m not really one for anything violent.”

  Hellion chuckled. “Wrong line of work for your lifetime, then, hmm?” He kicked his shoes off and stretched, curling his toes, arching his back, arms over his head and muscles vibrating as the tension built then released.

  “Well, yeah.”

  His hand snaked around my waist and pulled me close to his body. “What would you like to watch?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.

  I snuggled back into him. “Surprise me.”

  “I can do that.” He nipped down the length of my neck to that soft spot between the neck and shoulder and bit me.

  I was instantly aroused.

  His hands slithered up my front and cupped my breasts, rubbing my nipples through my bra.

  I needed to sit before I fell. I raised my hands to cover his over my breasts and moved us toward the longest sofa. Seeing where we were going, he swept me up and carried me to the divan, gently laying me down and kneeling beside me as I shifted my body toward his.

  “No,” I murmured. “I need you closer than this.” I tugged at the front of his shirt, and he shed his jacket as he moved forward. I began unbuttoning his shirt and, in frustration, tore off the last two buttons. “Sorry.” I leaned up to kiss my way from the hollow of his throat down to his navel. His erection twitched and punched out from his slacks as I drew closer to his belt with my lips. I smiled into the skin of his belly, nipping it and causing him to shudder. I leaned back on the sofa, grasped the edges of his shirt and pulled him toward me. I met his eyes as he moved over me, still kneeling on the floor.

  He whispered, “Maddy,” and leaned down to kiss me gently. “It’s the first time ye’ve looked at m
e like that,” he said in a heavy brogue. “Tá grá agam duit, my Madeleine,” he whispered.

  I stared up into his fathomlessly dark eyes, feeling an answer in my soul. It was too powerful to ignore, too significant to disregard, and suddenly I knew. “I don’t understand it but I’m terrified I could fall in love with you, Hellion,” I answered in a shaky voice. My heart felt like it was cleaved into two unequal pieces, overjoyed for the promise of everything that might be and anguished over those things that would never be again.

  He pulled me gently to him, his body shaking with fine tremors. “Maddy,” he choked out. “I’ll be honest, mo chroí, I’m not sure why it matters so much so soon, but damned if it doesn’t.”

  I sat as still as unmoving as a stone guardian, afraid to re-engage with the scene that was playing out in front of me.

  Shock, it’s just shock, Niteclif. That and the fact that you’re switching lovers, and loves, faster than the willing men around you are dropping their pants. Besides, you said you could see yourself falling for him, not that you were in love with him. Big difference. Yeah, right.

  I thought of Bahlin and it was the final rending of my heart. I began to sob, realizing a part of my past was just that—past. Hellion held me tight as I broke apart, knowing for whom it was that I grieved. In the small part of my mind that still functioned, I later remembered thinking at the time that he was a damn fine man to put up with so much at the beginning of a relationship. Any other man would have dumped me and run as fast and as far as he could.

  For one very selfish moment, I just couldn’t find it in myself to care.

  We lay together in front of the fire, neither of us speaking. He’d insisted I rest, retrieving a handful of warm cloths for me to use and freshen my face. It was still undoubtedly blotchy from my breakdown, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he cradled me close to his chest, stroking my bared arm and murmuring to me in Gaelic every now and then. I heard a door open and close, and before I could lift my head to see who had entered the room, Hellion said, “Hello, Mark.”

  “Sir.”

  “I assume you’ve come bearing news,” Hellion said. Holding my hand, he helped me to sitting and we both faced the butler.

  “Gaitha came to the house tonight, sir.”

  “She what?” I gasped, pulling away from Hellion and pushing myself to standing.

  “She arrived tonight shortly after Darius. I refused to answer the door, as instructed, but Darius felt none of the compunction to follow the same orders.” It was obvious Mark thought little of Darius’s apparent lack of respect for Hellion’s wishes.

  I rubbed my upper lip to hide a smile. I really liked Darius, all the more for his disregard of the rules.

  Hellion sighed. “And?”

  “Gaitha handed him this and then she left.” Mark held out his hand, and I snatched the gold coin out of it.

  “Holy crap!” I exclaimed, looking at the now familiar raised monarch and horseman. The gold felt heavy in my hand, and I didn’t object when Hellion lifted it from my palm and examined it closely.

  “Is it the same, then?” he asked me.

  I nodded grimly. “Yeah.” I turned and walked over to the sofa and flopped down, discouraged at the implications. I leaned forward and dropped my head into my hands.

  “Anything else, Mark?” Hellion asked, pocketing the coin.

  “Another note arrived after you left, sir.” He pulled out a long white envelope with an “H” scrawled on the front in blue ink.

  “How was it delivered?” I asked, watching Hellion walk to the antique secretary sitting in the corner and dig around, finally coming up with a letter opener shaped like a miniature claymore.

  “It was shoved in the mail slot,” Mark answered. “It was just lying on the floor. I came to you instead of calling because I knew you’d want to see the coin and the letter.”

  Hellion walked slowly back to Mark, every step calculated and heavy, as if he was dreading reading this letter as much as I was. He accepted the missive and sliced it open, carefully keeping his fingers away from the sharp edge of the little sword. He tossed the letter opener carelessly on the coffee table and pulled out the letter, glancing through it quickly before handing it to me and turning to face the fire to gather his thoughts, hands clasped behind his back. Before I could lift the letter to read, Hellion abandoned the fire to stalk to the bookshelf. He searched for a moment before pulling down a large tome and, sitting down at a nearby table, began thumbing through it hastily before finding what he was looking for. As he read, so did I.

  Hellion,

  Every fool can be led astray by their wandering cock, and for that you can be forgiven. What will not be forgotten is the history you incur with the whore at your side, who is as Catherine Howard was to Henry Manox—neither wife nor consummated lover. Stand aside and let the whore fall for treason or face a similar fate.

  I was too shocked and angry to hold the paper still in my trembling hands. I made my way to Hellion’s side and stood, dropping a hand on his shoulder, not entirely sure what to make of the note. I needed answers to that riddle before I could form intelligent questions about the rest of this mess.

  “Who is Catherine Howard, sir?” Mark surreptitiously wiped the bead of sweat from his upper lip and stood straighter.

  “Just a moment, Mark.” Hellion scanned pages before finding what he was looking for. Summarizing as he read, Hellion said, “Catherine Howard, wife of Henry VIII, was tried for treason and beheaded on February 13, 1542. Her crimes were charges of adultery. Henry Manox was her music teacher when she was a young girl, and while they never consummated their relationship, it was improper for the times and he never married her. When her indiscretions came to light, Henry had her tried for treason and then beheaded.” Hellion pushed his hands through his hair and dropped his forehead to the table, banging it lightly against the wood. Sighing, he pushed himself to standing and turned to me, quickly and unapologetically pulling me to him for a scorching kiss.

  Confused, I kissed him back until I remembered Mark was standing there waiting on us to do, well, something. I disentangled myself from Hellion’s embrace and buried my face in his chest while I regained some semblance of control. After a few seconds, I turned out of Hellion’s arms and faced the other man. “Did Darius say anything when you left him?”

  “Only that he wasn’t going to leave me behind when he came to deliver your love note,” came the midnight voice from the corner.

  I turned to find Darius sprawled on the sofa, watching us with interested eyes.

  “You’re not nearly jaded enough, old man,” Hellion snarked, “if watching two people snog is entertainment.”

  “And you, chap, need to pull your pants out of your bum crack. They seem wedged high enough you should be able to taste the worsted wool.”

  Hellion frowned, rubbing at the wrinkles in his brow. “I believe you’re right. Apologies, Darius.” Hellion took my hand and walked over to the opposing sofa and took a seat, waving at the lamps so they turned on enough to supplement the room’s candlelight. “Mark, have a seat.”

  The butler look surprised but quickly took a seat near Hellion. “I insisted he remain behind, sir, but he wouldn’t be swayed—”

  Hellion waved off the man’s apology. “I just want to know what happened between Gaitha’s visit and the arrival of the letter.” Hellion leaned back, extended his arm across the back of the sofa and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his sock-clad feet at the ankles.

  I slid closer to him, curling up under his arm.

  “Literally, sir, Gaitha arrived and demanded to see you. I wouldn’t open the door and was preparing to contact the new fae High Council member, Praen, but Darius opened the door.”

  Hellion lifted his hand off the back of the sofa and motioned for Darius to pick up the story.

  “Arrogant bastard,” Darius muttered, leaning forward in his seat.

  Hellion just smiled. “Worsted wool, was it?”

 
“Screw you. The queen stood there, shocked, I think, that it was me standing under the lintel. She demanded to know where you were, saying it was a matter of vengeance. Naturally I refused, and she became more agitated. Frightening woman, really, though she does inspire some pity. I was getting ready to forcibly remove her from the stoop as we’d drawn some attention from neighbors and passers-by—”

  “Shit,” muttered Hellion.

  “—when she seemed to scent something. Acted like an animal, raising her face to the wind and then she was gone, running up the street faster than any human could track.”

  “She likely picked up our trace since we left from the house,” Hellion groused. “I’d imagine she found Amaly’s general vicinity but was forced to resort to canvassing the neighborhoods on foot looking for us since we’d blocked Maddy’s tracers as we left. Thanks for handling her, Darius.” The vampire inclined his head. “And the letter, Mark?”

  “I found that too,” Darius said. “I walked by the foyer about an hour later, bent on sending you a text despite your admonishment to leave you free this evening. I’d fretted about it like a damned schoolgirl, and figured you’d both ignore it if you didn’t need to know. The letter was lying on the floor and smelled odd, like burning hair.”

  Burning hair… “Shit,” I gasped, pushing away from the comfort of Hellion’s side and sitting up quickly. “The night Bahlin came to the window I smelled a similar smell in your bedroom, Hellion.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention it because…?”

  “It was one of those fleeting things, there and gone. I forgot about if after I got the eerie sensation of being watched at the window.” I thought back to that night and wracked my brain for anything else I might have forgotten. It was all so vague except the sense of being watched and that distinctive smell. “I suppose she could have been at the house that night, but then why did the smell show up so long after she left tonight? Could she have come back and dropped the note off, using some type of magic that generates the smell? No, it doesn’t make sense. Not with what we have so far.”