Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)
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Had he done so, he would have been dead before the words left his lips. As a human servant, with little more status than the blood slaves chained in the dungeons below, he was not considered fit to address
Abhartach
as anything other than master. The king certainly never addressed Declan by his given name, nor anything other than . The old Gaelic word for slave.

They were not of a race, after all. Yet.

But
soon
.

Please soon, please oh
please
, Declan chanted in his head as he demurely tipped his chin down and his eyes up.

Abhartach
sighed impatiently.

The master’s moods had a keen edge, it was easy to get sliced to the bone. Fawn too much and lose your head for pure annoyance, fawn too little and get your throat slit for impertinence while Abhartach licked your blood from his lips and watched you die with a smile on his face.

Declan generally erred on the side of being as ingratiating as possible. He showed spine but rarely, and then with extreme wariness. He only did so at all to keep
Abhartach
’s somewhat flighty interest.

The vampire king took lovers infrequently, and never to Declan’s knowledge another male, but there was a first time for everything. Not that they
were
lovers very often, at least in the biblical sense. He had rarely known Abhartach to indulge in sex. His master's passions seemed confined to other, far darker areas. In truth, Declan was more like a pet than anything else.

A pet that wanted very much to eat from the high table at long last.

“Oh, fine. Kneel. You have a great deal to learn if you are ever to become one of us,
.”

Declan bowed his head, dropping to his knees in front of
Abhartach
’s seat, his back to his master, knowing exactly his master wanted.

He shivered when
Abhartach
’s fingers slid into his hair and began the familiar rhythm.  Stroke and pull and smooth. The demon could do this for hours, had done many times, in fact. Sometimes it was pleasant, sometimes incredibly painful, as
Abhartach
, if agitated enough, could go on all night long.

After a few hours, Declan's entire body below his waist would go numb, and once released he would fall to the floor, his muscles seizing in agony. It all depended on his master’s mood.

Declan’s shivers tonight held nothing but anticipation. He needed to know when the prince was to be brought home. Please, oh please,
oh please!
The chant went on and on in his head to the motion of the gnarled fingers running through his hair. He knew better than to rush
Abhartach
.

“Time is something you will have an abundance of, when you take the blood,
.
Remember that. There is
never
a need to rush, to strike blindly, even if
appearing
to do so is at times necessary. The moment Aidan choose to return to Eire, his fate was sealed.”
Abhartach paused for the barest instant and Declan knew he was smiling.

“But my heir is special, very special. As I have told ye many times, have I not?”

Declan nodded, making an appropriately encouraging noise, as was expected.

“Perhaps ye have tired of the story?”

“Never, master.”

The feel of another silent smile breathed cold against the back of Declan's neck.

“He was the pride of all
Uí Néill, you know
. Brave and beautiful as the sun itself, not that
I
ever got to see him in battle, more's the pity. I only heard the stories. They loved him so. If only his legions of admirers had known the dark debt his family owed. The price he paid to me appease that debt. Three times he submitted to what was owed by Niall of Nine Hostages.  Starting on the night of his first birthday as a man, then on each third year after that. 'Three times three' as was the punishment of every first born son of the O’Neills for nine generations. Aidan was to be the last.

"He was unwilling, of course. Grudging and proud even as a lad, but submit he did. He had no choice. His blood I was owed for that debt, as Niall and I agreed all those years ago. I found him particularly delicious, though. Far more so than any of Niall's other git. Almost irresistable, he was."

Abhartach’s fingers tightened in Declan's thick hair, the nails digging into his scalp and drawing blood. Tears pricked Declan's eyes even though he had been prepared for this reaction. Slowly, the demon’s hands loosened and the gravelly voice continued.

“I wanted more. I wanted him to be completely mine, to be able to turn him, to change him, to use him as I saw fit. But I knew that was impossible. I could not break my vow, could not risk it. Not even for such a prize. Until the night I was approached by one who shared my interest in Aidan, albeit in a different—shall we say—
vein
altogether."

Abhartach chuckled and the sound was like rocks being run through a grater.

“I was assured that I could have him, I could turn him and he would allow it of his
own free will
. My vow would be unbroken.

"I admit, I was ecstatic. Perhaps a bit blind, in hindsight.” Declan gave the expected mue of disagreement here and for a moment Abhartach’s fingers were almost gentle. Then the rhythm continued, faster and rougher now.

“At first all went as planned, he was brought to me.  Most definitely
not
of his own free will, though. Oh no, not at all! Be wary of a woman obsessed,
,
they can be quite terrifying.

"In the end, he did submit. I didn't understand why, not then, though later I learned his secret. All's I knew then was that he said the words, releasing me from my vow, undoing his protection, though a blind fool could have seen what those words cost him.

"He begged in the end, you know.
Screamed.
” Abhartach sighed as if swept away by nostalgia. “Well, that is how the change is. You will see." Declan preened at these words.

"I thought my ‘partner in crime’ would faint by the time we were through, but she stood it. And then he was
mine
. My perfect heir as I had dreamed of for so very long. I would have found my greatest joy in molding him for that, but I…” The demon's voice faltered and trailed off.

“You were most cruelly tricked, my master.” Declan’s voice was fainter than a dying whisper, but he knew Abhartach heard him.

The big hands fell from his hair at last.

“Indeed I was. He shall never trick me again. The leverage that was used to force Aidan all those years ago is gone. I will never have it again. Yet…I think I have found a new way to bow that stiff neck. Perhaps. The woman he was with when ye saw him—“

“You think he cares for her, that he
loves
her?” Declan actually turned his head around before he could stop himself.

If true, this was fine news indeed. Love was weakness, any fool knew that.

“I think not,” Abhartach made a dismissive sound, but a smile curved his lips. “Not
yet
, anyway. But there is
something
there, something between them…

“I do not believe Aidan understands it himself yet. He protected her most carefully for knowing her so briefly.” Abhartach had trailed Aidan for years. As a fae, he could not cross open water and leave Ireland himself. He sent others, of course. But after losing too many of his people to Aidan over the years he had mostly given up attacking him outright. He watched through the eyes of others, though. He always watched. He had known Aidan’s every move. Until the night he disappeared so swiftly from Turkey to reappear most fortuitously back in Ireland.

“That is his way, is it not?” Declan couldn’t hide his disappointment, dangerous though it was. Could Abhartach actually be mistaking the banality of O’Neill’s warrior creed, his stupid habit of protecting the weak, for something more than it was?

Abhartach tangled his fingers into Declan’s longish hair again. White-blond hair, far paler than Aidan’s, but of the exact same thick, curly texture. He forced Declan’s head back inch by inch, his smile growing.

“It is his way, yes. Or was, we should say. He has changed from the warrior he was. But even for him, this was something different. He doesn't make attachments anymore, understand,
?
Not ever, because he is smart and doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of his past.

"The Fitzpatricks are excusable, they are protected. He knows I cannot touch them. Not without a war I'll not risk. Not even for Aidan.”

With a regretful sigh, the demon fae trailed a finger down Declan’s throat, the nail drawing blood as those black eyes bored into blue.

“He feels
responsible
for this one already, enough that he showed me so, before he could stop himself. Left to his own devises, no doubt he
would
get rid of her. Perhaps. But given time… trapped in that house together…with nowhere to go….

"We wait and let that sweet noose tighten just a bit longer. And then maybe we will get what we want, and so easily, aye,
daor
?”

Declan nodded fervantly as his master’s head bent, as that cold tongue slid over his skin just before black fangs pierced his jugular.

Please, oh please, oh please!

 

Declan didn't realize that the feeding tonight had a twofold intent for his precious master. Sustenance and knowledge.

It was true.
The words shot across
Abhartach's mind like a ray of light. He smiled as he forced the slave to the floor, tearing flesh delibrately as he fed.

He was not gifted like his heir, but taking blood directly could show him things, and blood did not lie. Aidan walked across this creature's memories, holding the human woman in his arms, slamming the door on a sun already high in the sky.

Balor
, it was true! He had thought the sun walker potion was a mere legend, the
ghrian siúlóir
a mere myth conceived by the pathetic dregs of his offspring that couldn't cope with the loss of their old lives.

He had been wrong, the potion existed. And Aidan must know where it was.

Feverous glee rose in the dark heart of the fae king. He hadn't dared to dream of more than having his heir back at his side, but this…this…was the very
world
poised at his fingertips.

A world laid out under the light of the sun, a world burning and soaked in blood. Abhartach growled, draining Declan within a hair's breadth of death in his excitement.

  How utterly beautiful.

 

Chapter 8

 

“So basically you’re saying I ruined your first day outside in about a thousand years?"

Heather looked so incredulous, Aidan had to laugh. They were in the living room, everyone else long gone to bed. He was stretched out next to her on the couch, his arm behind her head, though they were not touching. Her fingers were curled around a cold cup of tea that she had never drank a drop of, her body curled away from his.

He wanted to think her posture was more instinctive than delibrate, but he thought not.

She’d been tiptoeing around him since the library. Aidan couldn't attribute that to what had happened in that room between them. As improbable as it may be, Heather had been much more comfortable with what he was
after
he had let her see him drink from her. Strange woman. Though, weren't they all?

Heather was just stranger than normal, he thought with a smirk, watching her frown at him.

When he had left her earlier she had been downright mellow. Hell, so had he.

No, it was something else entirely that had her so skittish. Something that had happened
after
he left her. It puzzled him.

Not that it mattered, he reminded himself. He’d be leaving her for good soon enough. They'd never see each other again. Aidan shifted irritably as his stomach tightened at the thought.

They needed to have sex again, that was all. Then they would both settle down and he could get out of here in peace. His response to her question was terse.

“Aye, tha' is the way of it. Hit me with a car ten minutes after sunrise, dinna ye?”

“Well, shit.” Her expression had him back to amused in a fingersnap.

“'Tis probably what I said, though I honestly canna remember.”

“Oh shut up, Aidan! For god’s sake. I feel terrible.”

“Do ye really?” He leaned over, his lips brushing her ear. “Tha’s good to know, might come in handy as leverage later.”

“You're such an ass, Aidan.”

“Ye say tha' a fair lot. I am beginning to think you’re obsessed with my arse.” He kissed the side of her neck, but she waved a hand absently.

“It’s very nice, yes.”

Aidan smothered a laugh against her skin, despite being perturbed by the lack of effect his attention was having.

She was seriously upset that she had interrupted his ‘outing’. Not that he had been happy about it either, but there hadn’t had much time to dwell on it. They’d been busy every second since. And he was rather hoping to be busy again.

It was driving him mad sitting here, waiting for
Abhartach
to do whatever he was going to do. He should be gone already, no matter what Ronan thought. But since he was stuck until sundown
anyway
….

He nibbled the delicate line of her collarbone, finally rewarded with a sigh and her fingers sliding into his hair. “Do you have more?”

“More?” He ran his hands down her sides until she squirmed. What the hell was she on about?

“More of the potion, you idiot! Stop trying to seduce me and
listen
for a minute. How much do you have left?”

Aidan pulled away and looked down at her crossly. “Some. It dinna take much. But yer mad if ye think I would do it again
here
. Ronan would have a fit and 'tis his home.”

Heather’s expression turned considering. “Bav said the other vampires were sitting tight, didn't she?”

“Aye, for all her word is worth.”

“And anyway, they are vampires, too. So how are they going to see you if you go out in the day?” Her tone was considering. Aidan dipped his head to hide a smile. She was so utterly naïve.

“They'll have plenty of human spies, love. 'Tis what
Abhartach
does.”

For a second she looked horrified. “But…why wouldn’t they just run away if he lets them move around in the daytime?”

“Run away?” Aidan laughed, but without much humor. “Gods, think about tha' for a second, Heather. How far exactly do ye think they would be getting before nightfall?”

She stared up at him as that sunk in.

“Well, yes, I get the danger. But Ireland’s not that big, Aidan. They could get off the island before sundown easily if they planned it right.”

“Oh aye, some of them anyway. And no doubt some of them
have
, those without families or other loved ones he could hold over their heads. Abhartach himself canna cross open water, being fae born and all. But he can send others.”

“Did he ‘send others’ after you?”

He smiled coldly. “O' course he did. Only I am nae human, am I? I can take care of meself. Humans donna have a chance against us, Heather. No' at
all.”

He could see her remembering how he had handled the street gang in Istanbul. While Abhartach had basically given up on sending assassins after
him
several centuries ago—barring the occasional spot check—a human would have little to no chance of escaping his vampire minions unscathed.

Aidan wasn’t finished. She needed to be forewarned.

“Most
do
stay with him, of their own free will, mind.”

“What?!”

“Oh donna be so damme innocent, love. Think on it. Ye mentioned the movies before, the books about us and all. There’s some of ye humans who fair on worship vampires.”

“Perhaps…but you confront even the most die-hard Twilight fan with Abhartach, and I think they would change fandoms in a hurry, Aidan.”

Aidan chuckled. “Damme so. Even though I have no’ noticed ye running away from
me
.” He smiled at her in a way that sent a bolt of heat into her lower stomach and irritated the hell out of her.

“But I am nae talking about
that
lot. They are harmless enough, they want to be seduced by the dark, be a wee bad. If only in their safe, romanticized ideal of the dark. There is some as donna need it prettied up, though. They
like
the ugly truth. Haven’t ye ever know someone who would do anything for a bit of power, someone who might
actually
sell their soul to the devil, if such a thing was possible? If it meant all their twisted little fantasies could come true?”

She blinked slowly, looking a bit sick. “They work for him because he promises them he will make them vampires?”

“Now ye’ve got the way of it.”

“Does he actually make good on that promise?”

He shrugged. “Rarely. Very rarely. But enough to give them hope. He is a consummate manipulator, love.”

She sighed. “Okay, okay then. Human spies. I get it. But we’re in the middle of nowhere, aren't we? And Ronan has been patrolling like a madman, no matter what Bav said. He hasn’t seen anyone, or any tracks. I do
hear
you two talking, you know. And you—even if you do go walking around in daylight with the potion—you’ll still be a damn
vampire,
right?”

“O' course.” He looked at her like she was nuts.

She rolled her eyes and her next words were more than subtly patronizing.

“So, you would
smell
them, wouldn’t you? Long before they could see you.”

He narrowed his eyes, straightening. Almost at once, he shook his head. “Ronan would nae agree. And I said I would no' disrespect him in his own house.”

“You stole the potion from him in the first place!”

“Aye. But 'tis different.”

Heather threw up her hands. “Oh, you know that makes no fucking sense, Aidan!”

He took her hands in his own. He hadn’t put on his leathers, as he didn’t feel the need to protect himself from psychic clutter as keenly in this house, and she shivered at his touch.

Aidan knew that shiver had nothing to do with desire. She knew his powers now and felt vulnerable. There was nothing he could do about that.

It wasn't his intent to violate her privacy, but he couldn’t help feeling the buzz of frustration and concern coming off of her. In addition to something dark and sad hovering beneath that was probably regret. Heather was really beating herself up for messing up his shot at the sun.

She cared about him. Already.

Shite.

His gut tightened again. This time it was harder to shake off. Other than the Fitzpatricks, it’d been a long time since anyone had shown him such concern.

“Heather,” he used her given name without thinking about it. “It’s grand ye're so keen to help me out, truly it is. I am quare touched.” He swallowed, finding himself off balance and not wanting to show her how much. He dropped her hands and shot her a sarcastic grin. “There will be another day for me. Unless you are thinking of following me with a car, just in case?"

She looked like she wanted to shake him. “Don’t tempt me. Seriously, Aidan. Wouldn’t this be the best way for you to do this? Here. In a controlled environment, with us, with your friends—”

Aidan felt something inside him go very still. This he couldn't allow himself to shake off. "Ye including yerself in tha', are ye?"

 

Heather watched him tip his head, the way he was regarding her coolly with those quiet crystal eyes. Her mouth went dry. But he didn't bother to wait for her answer.

“We are
nae
friends, nobody. Nor will we ever be. Donna make tha' mistake. I donna have friends, Ronan is a…well, he's Ronan." He shrugged. "But I donna have anyone else, and I never will. Tha's the way it
has
to be."

"Oh fine, then. You don't need to be so dramatic." She made her tone flippant, even as her stomach knotted and her face flushed. "We’re all grown-ups here. Some more grown up than others, of course."

He sighed. "Donna take it personal, love."

How could she take it otherwise? To hide how much it hurt, she arched an eyebrow and gave him a disdainful look. "I bet vampires make terrible friends, anyway."

There was a flash in those crystal eyes that tightened her heart.  In the next breath though, he had to go and be typical.

“Well, now I donna know. Parts of me are feeling very 'friendly' toward ye at the mo'. Care to feel
how
friendly?”

She jumped up from the couch, muttering under her breath.

He threw her back down, pinning her beneath him in one swift movement. She stared up at him, helpless and pissed. She knew it shouldn't have hurt, what he had said. She had no business
letting
it hurt. But her eyes stung anyway and she saw Aidan's jaw tighten. Furious, she tried to turn her head before she could something truly pathetic, like cry, but Aidan captured her mouth first. It was a long, violent kiss, a blaze of heat that turned all her anger and hurt into ash.

The feel of his body, that hard, lean and muscular length, pressing her down into the soft cushions made her shudder. She didn't want to want him, not now, but she couldn’t help it. He'd never kissed her like this before, with an almost cruel desperation. Hot and nipping, his tongue slid against hers, making her whimper. His leg forced hers apart, so that she could feel him throbbing against her.

She gasped when he finally let her up for air, but he obviously wasn't going to stop there.

Aidan wrapped a hand in her hair, pulling her head back as his mouth trailed down her throat. His lips moved over her skin, "Heather, I—"

A deep voice rumbled through the hallway. “Not to interrupt or anything—”

Aidan growled and released her abruptly. “Oh, aye. Piss the fuck
off
, Fitzpatrick! 'Tis not as if ye take
any
pleasure from interrupting, at every damme opportunity lately.”

He sat up, pulling her up next to him. Heather was dizzy and trying her best not to pant.
Fuck.

From Aidan's expression, he was thinking more of the same.

Ronan’s grey eyes were dancing. “Actually, tha' is definitely my pleasure. A petty one, true, but satisfying n’vertheless. I did want a word, though, about yer conversation earlier.” His expression turned serious.

Aidan's mouth fell open and he tensed. “Ye adding eavesdropping to being a damme peeping Tom?"

“Yer one to talk, ye sneaking bloodsucker! But nae, I wasna eavesdropping, at least no’ a purpose. I just caught tha' last bit, the controlled environment part. Ye know, I say the lass has a fair point. One I thought of meself, truth be told.”

Aidan looked taken a back. “Since when?”

“Since ye went and stole the bloody stuff and used it anyway! Did ye never consider what ye put me through, taking it?”

“Look, Ronan, I understand it was stupid to risk being seen, okay? Especially with what
did
end up happening. Damme, I already said ye were right. I wasn’t thinking straight, I just needed—“

The bigger man interrupted, his voice rough. “I understand what ye needed. Who better?
Am I nae yer friend, ye bloody eejit!?
Do ye think I was
only
worried about ye being seen? Did ye n'ver think I might have been just a wee bit concerned about what could happen to ye—going into the sun like that?!  Ye could’ve died, Aidan!
For good this time!”

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