To Curse the Darkness (11 page)

Marc grimaced. “Not really. It's on mine, actually. But fair enough.”

“You didn't know him like I did, Marc. You didn't know him back when he was sane. And Audrey…Audrey's the closest thing I have to a sister. He was the love of her life and I took that away from her. You have a sister, don't you? So hopefully you'll understand how I feel.”

“I guess so.”

“I understand why you want to catch her, but I can't betray her again. That means I'm not going to search her out for you. I won't let you use me to trap her or trick her. She's gone now, and I sincerely hope she stays gone. That would be the best thing for all of us.”

“Even if it means I have to be on guard forever? That I'll always be wondering who she's going to come after next? She's targeting my family, Elise.”

“Well, you're the one with the army, sugar. And if you don't think they can handle keeping you and yours safe from one little woman with a bit of a grudge on, then you'd better figure that out right now. Otherwise, you won't be doing either of us a favor by adding me to the mix. I don't think anyone's coming after me, but who knows when that might change? It sounds to me like you've already got a fairly large target on your back. I don't want to make it bigger.”

“We can handle it,” Marc answered grimly. “What else?”

“What else what?”

“You said there were a couple of things you wanted me to agree to.”

“Yes. I also don't want to be held prisoner. If I come with you, it's voluntary. And if I want to leave, I want to be able to do so. I need you to respect that.”

“This is about the handcuffs, isn't it?” Marc inquired in rueful tones, and Elise couldn't determine if he was joking or serious. Possibly it was a little of both.

“It's not about the handcuffs,” she said. But then she thought about it. “Well, maybe it is a little.”

“I already apologized for that. I just couldn't take the risk that you'd leave before I had the chance to talk to you. If you'd been awake, I wouldn't have had to use them.”

“I understand. But I also know you didn't find them here. That means you brought them with you. It wasn't a spur of the moment idea. You planned to use them.”

“I won't say I didn't think of it as a possibility,” Marc admitted. “But I didn't bring them just for you. I didn't even bring them mostly with you in mind. If you must know, I thought I might find Audrey hiding out with you.”

“Whatever your reasons, they're not important. The issue is that I've known the pain of being at someone else's mercy before, Marc. I know this is nothing new or unique. Probably all of us have experienced that at some point. And I know it's probably inevitable it will happen again. But I can't knowingly walk into a situation like that. You have to understand that.”

“And you'd trust me if I said I'd let you leave whenever you want?”

Elise shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a fool.”

“No, I don't think you are, actually. I think you're incredibly bright. And I think you recognize, deep down inside, that my intentions are good.”

“You know what they say about good intentions, don't you?”

Marc flashed her a smile. “I'm gonna ignore that. Okay, so before I accept your conditions, I have a couple of my own as well.”

“Go on.”

“I respect your decision not to betray Audrey, but I can't have you betraying me or any of my people to her either.”

“It's not my plan to betray you, Marc, or anyone else, but the same rules apply. I won't help you trap her. I won't help her to trap you either. But if my life's on the line, I won't lie to save either one of you.”

Marc nodded. “Which brings me to my second condition. I'm not a jailer, Elise. I don't want to hold you prisoner. I want you to be with me of your own volition. But your safety is important to me, and the lives of my family are important to me. You can't ask me to put them—or you—at risk. So if you'll trust me to keep you safe, I promise to give you as much freedom as I can without jeopardizing your safety or anyone else's.”

“And if I don't agree?”

Marc blew out a frustrated breath. “We could always go back to the handcuffs, I guess.” He put up his hands before she could say anything. “That's just a joke.”

“No, it isn't.”

He shrugged. “Well, mostly it was. I'd prefer to hope that, were the subject to come up, we could discuss the situation calmly and rationally and come to a mutually agreeable compromise.”

“It would be nice to think so,” Elise replied wistfully. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

“Thank you,” Marc answered. The smile that swept across his face set a new benchmark for disarming. Its warmth and brightness overwhelmed her. When he clasped her to him and kissed her once more, even deeper and longer and harder than before, that was overwhelming too.

He might have a point with all this family business, she thought, because when he kissed her, she felt the oddest sensation. And maybe it had been so long that she could not clearly remember how it actually felt to be part of a family, but from her skin to her marrow, her body seemed convinced that she was home.

And when he let her go at last and murmured softly, “C'mon. Let's get you packed so we can go home,” she didn't even think to question his use of the word.

Chapter Eight

England, Castle Mac Nuallen

Late Sixteenth Century

The castle was in far better shape than the last time Conrad had seen it; clearly the money he had sent for its upkeep had been well spent. All the tender green scents of a soft spring evening perfumed the air, carrying with them the promise of new life. He sighed heavily. The irony of it all was not lost on him. By rights, he should have come here in the dead of winter. The castle should have been a shambling ruin whose crumbling walls were wreathed in a dank and fetid mist. Only then would the outside reflect the rottenness that festered within. Only then would the scene before him match both his mood and his purpose.

“My lord!” Tannar called as he hurried toward him. “Thank you for coming!” The years sat lightly on him, as always. He was as youthful seeming as ever, but there was an air of gravity about him now, a soberness of purpose that had not been there before. Upon consideration, Conrad decided it was not at all unbecoming.

Conrad found himself smiling as he clasped arms with the lad. “It's good to see you,” he said, and was surprised to find he meant it, even though the reason for his visit continued to weigh heavily upon his spirit.

Tannar bowed politely. “Thank you sir. And on behalf of everyone here at Clan Quintano, I welcome you home. It means a great deal to us all that you're here. That you came yourself, I mean. Rather than…rather than sending someone else in your stead.”

“Of course I did. I came as soon as I got word.” Even despite the solemn mood, Conrad could not help but smile. “So, Clan Quintano, is it now? That's something new. I'm sure it was still Clan Edwin Mac Nuallen when last I was here.”

“New? Why no, my lord,” Tannar looked faintly shocked. “My lord Kendrick ordered the change shortly after your last visit. I remember it well. He said you'd proved yourself to be a man of honor and worthy of our respect and that we were to be proud to bear your name. I would have thought he'd have told you?”

“No, he did not mention it. But I am honored just the same. How is he, by the way?”

Tannar's expression turned grim. “I wish I had better news, but he is in dire straits, my lord. Yet even now he puts our safety above his own comfort, insisting he be kept in irons and housed in the dungeon, rather than be allowed to pass the time that remains to him in the relative comfort of his own quarters.”

“I am sorry, although I cannot say I'm surprised to hear it. He always struck me as being a practical man as well as a good leader to you all.”

“Yes, my lord.” Tannar sighed. “It is just like him to put our welfare above his own. But where are my manners? His lordship would be furious with me for forgetting. You must be tired after your journey—and hungry as well. Might I offer you something to eat?”

“No.” Conrad shook his head. “No, I must see to Kendrick's comfort before I do anything else. I understand the later stages of the disease may be torturous to endure. It will not do to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.”

Tears welled up in Tannar's eyes. “Aye, my lord. Right this way.”

The stairway leading down to the castle's lowest levels was lit with torches. Conrad made note of them and was glad. It would save him having to ask to have one brought to him later. Howls and muttered swearing rose to greet them, growing louder and ever more frantic the closer they came to the cell where Kendrick was kept.

The beast that made its home in Conrad roared in delight. It had missed this—the sounds of pain and madness, the smell of death, the miasma of destruction, so similar to that in which it had been born. Although the dungeons of Castle Mac Nuallan were palatial compared to those in which Conrad had once been kept, the air of despair that hung about them was far too familiar.

Tannar was clearly affected by the atmosphere as well. His hands were shaking as he pulled the key out of his pocket, and his eyes were wet and red with grief. Conrad stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“This shall not take long,” Conrad said, speaking quietly, in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “And you need not be present if you do not wish to be. Indeed, I doubt he'll even want you to be there, if for no other reason than to protect you. There is, after all, a small chance you could become infected as well. You should make your goodbyes with all haste and then leave us. It will be easier for you both that way.” It would be easier for him as well, but Tannar need never know that.

“Ye-yes, my lord,” Tannar answered, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “And…and there is truly no other way? Nothing else that can be done for him?”

“No. Unfortunately not.”

“Very well.” He struggled for a moment, finally getting himself under control enough to say, “I suppose… I suppose I shall have to see about getting a plot ready to receive him.”

“No need.” Conrad sighed. “After it's done, I shall set the remains alight. 'Tis better thus, for there is less chance that way of the illness being transmitted to others. I suggest you seal this chamber and let him lie at peace within it. It's fitting perhaps that his final resting place should be here, at the very heart of the castle.”

Tannar nodded. “Aye. That it is. He will be with us always then.”

Kendrick lunged for them the moment the door was opened, but he was brought up short by the chains clasped round his ankles and remaining wrist. Conrad took a step forward, shielding Tannar with his body, just in case. Snarling softly, he allowed the power to rise within him. He knew the moment that Kendrick recognized him. The murderous gleam in the old man's eyes turned to one of naked relief and he sank clumsily to his knees.

“Master,” he gasped, scrubbing his single hand over his face in what appeared to be an attempt to gather his wits.

For once, Conrad didn't have it in him to protest the hated title. “Good evening, Kendrick.”

Kendrick's throat worked for a moment before any words emerged. “So,” he said at last, panting a little with the effort to speak calmly. He forced a wry smile as he met Conrad's gaze. “You've come back again, I see. And are ye here to finish the job you started at our first meeting then?”

The job of killing him, he meant. Conrad nodded. “I am. Though I wish I could say otherwise.”

“Ah, well, third time's the charm—or so I've heard it said. I trust there'll be no more mistakes. You'll get it right this time around, will ye not?”

“I will. And quickly. You need have no fear.”

“Good, good.” Kendrick sighed again in relief. “Thank you for that. It'll be a blessing—make no mistake.” Then his gaze focused on Conrad's companion. “Tannar, my lad. It's glad I am to see you this last time, but you should not be here. This is no place for anyone as young and healthy as you. Off with you now. I wish you a long and happy life, my boy. And…and if you should happen to think kindly of me, now and again, I would be pleased. I'd consider myself well repaid for all the trouble you've caused me.”

“Oh, my lord,” Tannar said as his self-control deserted him. He would have surged forward if Conrad had not seized his collar to keep him safely out of Kendrick's reach. “My dearest lord, I shall never forget you. Never! Why, you have been like a father to me always. I would take your place an I could!”

“Now, now,” Kendrick said bracingly. “None of that. No father could have asked for a better son than you—that's for certain. But there's no need for tears. I've had a good run and cheated death too many times to begrudge its luck now that it's finally catching up with me. Be a good lad and do your old master proud.”

“I will, my lord.” Tannar gulped. “Always. I promise.”

“Go on now,” Conrad urged after another moment passed and Tannar showed no sign of leaving. Tannar blinked at him, his face tearstained and taut with grief. Conrad nodded, answering the unspoken question in Tannar's eyes. “I'll take care of him. You need have no fear of that.”

Tannar nodded once, shot a last glance in Kendrick's direction, then turned and fled from the chamber.

Kendrick's eyes gleamed with tears as his gaze once again found Conrad's. “Look after him for me, will you, my lord? And the others as well?”

Conrad nodded. “You have my word on it. Have you given any thought as to whom you'd like to succeed you as lord of this castle?”

Kendrick's eyes widened. “I assumed you'd want to make that choice for yourself.”

Conrad shrugged. “They're your people,” he said as he idly fingered the blade of his sword, which he'd pulled from his scabbard. “Your family. I'd trust your judgment regarding them above anyone else's. And, after all, you know them far better than I do.”

As he'd hoped, Kendrick appeared not to have noticed the sword. His expression turned thoughtful. “Well, Rolf's the smartest,” he said on a sigh. “He's got a good head on his shoulders, that lad, and you can trust him to make good, sound decisions, if it came to that. But Tannar…ah, for all that he's the youngest, he's got the biggest heart, if you know what I mean. He's the most likely to put the clan's welfare ahead of his own—and that's important too, though it makes it hard to decide.”

“If I might make a suggestion, why not name Tannar as lord with Rolf to advise him?”

“Aye.” Kendrick nodded. “That would do very well, I think. If it pleases you, my lord, I would have it be so.”

“It shall be done.”

“Thank you for that, and thank you, too, for coming here so swiftly to put an old man out of his misery. I did not like to speak of it in front of Tannar, but it's been fair agonizing of late. But in any case, my lord, it's been an honor to have known you.”

“The honor is mine,” Conrad assured him. “And though our association has been far too short, I'm loath to extend it at this point and make you suffer further. Are you ready then? Or do you need a moment to compose yourself?”

“No.” Kendrick wiped his hand across his eyes. He took a deep breath and said, “I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and looking forward to being reunited with those who have gone before me—assuming there's a place in heaven for those such as we. Do you think there is?”

Conrad shrugged. “I do not know what awaits us beyond the grave. But, wherever your journey takes you, I hope you find peace at the end of it.”

Kendrick nodded. “I thank you for that. And I wish the same to you. But not, I trust, for a good long time.” Then he sat back on his heels and closed his eyes. “Very well. Ready when you are, my lord.”

Conrad didn't hesitate. His blade slashed through the air and took Kendrick's head clean off with one swift strike. He jumped back quickly to avoid getting sprayed with the tainted blood. Then he stepped into the hallway to reach for the nearest torch.

After running his blade through the flame a couple of times to thoroughly clean it, he tossed the torch into the spreading pool of Kendrick's blood. He slammed the cell door shut just as the blood ignited in a bright flash that all but blinded him.

As he stood for a moment in the hallway, waiting for his sight to return, for his heart to stop pounding at so fast a pace—and for the flames to subside, for it would not do to accidentally burn the castle to the ground—he rested his head against the stone wall and gave in to his grief.

The role of executioner was not an unfamiliar one. Perhaps it had been at one point, but those days were long gone. Indeed, there had been times lately when he'd found himself wondering whether killing people was not his sole reason for being on the planet, all he'd been put there to do, the only task anyone ever called upon him to handle . But seldom had it seemed as hard as this.

Part of Conrad envied Kendrick. For good or for ill his struggle was ended now. Another part of him wished he had not forbidden Damian from accompanying him on this particular journey. Not that he wanted his lover to view him in the same light as far too many others did—as a coldly efficient killer—but he longed to lose himself in Damian's embrace, to remind himself that there was more to life than death, that there was more to
him
than the murderous monster it sometimes seemed he'd become.