Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2) (13 page)

BOOK: Blood In Fire (Celtic Elementals Book 2)
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Heather rubbed them away as she stared at the door to the library. She couldn't help wondering if everyone in Ireland was either cursed, a vampire, a god—or mad as a hatter.

Chapter 7

 

Lacey was indeed washing dishes when Heather stepped into the big, warm kitchen. Her eyes sparkled why she hummed to herself. The tune was something bright and happy that irritated Heather after two cheery notes. Night pressed against the glass doors and the wide window seat that Heather flopped down in with a small huff.

“She hates me.”

“Who Bav? I would say that is a given, since she saw you with Aidan…oops.” Lacey caught herself as she turned, wrinkling her nose. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Heather narrowed her eyes.

“Keep your secrets, it’s
fine
. If Aidan feels the need to tell me his past with that…woman, I’ll listen, for sure. But otherwise it’s really none of my business. No, I meant Moiré.”

“Moiré?!” Lacey looked stunned.

“Well, don’t look at me like that! I don’t know what her problem is, but she obviously would be throwing me out of here in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for you.”

“Heather. You must be mistaken. Moiré…she’s one of the warmest, kindest peo..”

"'Ye will
nae
be welcome here, if ye trifle with his heart’! That is what she just said to me, Lace!”

“She was talking about Aidan?”

“Of course she was talking about Aidan! Who else’s damn heart would I be ‘trifling’ with? Not that it is his heart that concerns me, for god’s sake. I am plenty interested on what he’s got going on the outside, but I don’t give a damn about his stupid heart! Why does everyone keep pestering me about it?” Heather noticed how loud her voice had gotten and lowered it in a hurry, looking around the kitchen warily. “Where is she anyway?”

“Moiré? She went out front, she’s pulling weeds again.”

“In the dark?”

Lacey shrugged. “Ronan and Aidan are out there, too, somewhere. And it’s what she does when she’d upset.”

“See?! I told you. She hates me!”

“Oh, Heather.” Lacey took a small hand towel from a drawer and wiped her hands, her back to the sink as she looked at her friend. Standing, Lacey was almost on eye level with Heather sitting. “Do you want some tea?”

“Do I want…. What..?!”

Lacey shrugged again. “It’s what everyone here does when anyone is upset— sorry.”

“Damn, you’ve been here less than a month and you’re turning Irish on me. No, I don’t want any ‘bloody’ tea, Lace! These people are nuts!”

With a sigh, Lacey came to the table and sat down next to Heather. “I'm sure it seems that way to you, Heather. You have had more than a few shocks. But if Moiré said something that made you feel unwelcome, I'm sure she didn’t mean it.”

“I am quite sure she did!” Heather glared
mutinously
at her friend, feeling betrayed. And more than a little hurt.

“Sorry.” Lacey put a small hand on hers and squeezed. There was a lot of love on that familiar face, but Heather refused to be mollified.

“Why don’t they like me?
Everyone
likes me! Damnit.”

Lacey patted her hand. “Not everyone, sweetie.”

“Oh thanks! You’re not helping here.”

Sighing, Lacey withdrew her hand. “I'm not trying to. Sorry, I was trying to figure out why Moiré would treat you like that. And I think I have an answer. But you’re not going to like it.” Her friend’s bright eyes were not twinkling now, but round and serious.

“Surprise, surprise. Lay it on me.”

Lacey hesitated, obviously choosing her words with care. “Moiré, she’s got a bit of the sight…”

“You mean she’s psychic, too? Oh, holy
balls
, Lacey! Are you for real?”

“Yeah. She saw me all the time when I was a kid, growing up…off and on my whole life.”

“Okay, creepy.”

“Heather!”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just…well, Jesus, Lacey. Vampires—psychic fucking vampires— and werewolves and goddesses and demons….and now
more
psychics?” Heather finished weakly. Lacey reached over and patted her hand again.

“I know, I know. But buck up.”

“I’m trying. It’s not easy though.”

“No, it sure isn’t.” Lacey gave her a sympathetic look that reminded Heather that her friend had gone through this very same insanity. And she had done it without the benefit of a friendly, familiar face in sight. Heather straightened her spine and resolved to stop being so damn whiny.

“Okay, sorry. Go ahead.”

“Well, Moiré has the sight, like I said. And the only reason I can see for her acting that way to you, because she definitely has a reason, Heather. I wasn’t playing when I said she is about the sweetest person on earth, okay?” Lacey paused for Heather’s nod and then continued. “The only reason I can think of for her attitude is if she saw something…something about you and Aidan.”

The words seemed to hover for an instant in the air between them, then they shot right into Heather’s midsection like a solid punch. She rocked back in her chair, her eyes wide. “Alrighty then. Something…bad, I’m guessing, from her tone.”

“I'd tend to agree with that.” Lacey chewed her bottom lip worriedly. “But—“

Whatever she intended to say was cut off, as a chorus of voices rang through the house along with the slamming of doors. Together, Heather and Lacey stood.

By the time the Fitzpatrick family poured into the kitchen, they were side by side at the sink, Lacey washing and Heather drying, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

Neither of which were taking them down pleasant paths.

 

Aidan wasn’t having pleasant thoughts himself as he walked into the kitchen. He and Ronan had tried hashing out a plan. As they were of two very different minds, it hadn’t gone particularly well.

As long as he remained with the Fitzpatrick’s, he could be fairly certain of being safe. Abhartach wouldn't dare attack too close to their doorstep, for fear of unwelcome attention from Lugh. The king of the Tuatha de Naanan was one of the only powers on earth the demon fae respected.

For Aidan, being a prisoner, even in the home of a friend, rankled. There was also his need to hunt. Heather allowing him, well, pretty much demanding that he drink from her meant that his hunger was decently at bay. For the moment.

Still, he hadn’t had a
kill
in well over two weeks now. That was bad. He couldn’t be sustained for any length of time without one. He’d gone as long as a month before, but that had nearly ended him. He didn’t relish the idea of going through it again.

Abhartach wouldn’t just
quit
. It didn't make sense. No, the bastard was holding back for a reason. There were no vampires or demons or thralls along the Fitzpatrick property at the moment, as far as he and Ronan could tell. Eventually though, they would come.

Ronan thought it better to wait until they showed themselves, to wait for Abhartach to make his move first, and show his hand.

Aidan didn't agree and not only because he knew damn well the sneaky lengths his friend would go to protect him, which could definitely include lying about strategy

Ronan's main intent was to keep him close, no matter what. That way the big man could feel confident of protecting both his best mate
and
his family.

Aidan knew his chances of getting off the island were probably slim to nil, but he was of the mind he had to try, before things got any worse. Otherwise, he'd…

He saw Heather and Lacey at the table, staring at him and he frowned.

“What?”

“Damn,” Lacey whispered, “now that’s what you call ‘lost in thought’.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “We only practically screamed at you like three or four times… “ Her words trailed off, as she seemed to catch something in his face. “What is it, Aidan?”

Before he could respond, the children came pouring into the kitchen.

“Uncle Aidan!” Caitlin and Caithryn, the tow-headed twins jumped into his arms. They looked to be about three. Of course, they were far older than they appeared, like everyone in the Fitzpatrick family.

Aidan hadn’t been awake for dinner and immediately after that he’d gone outside with Ronan. The children had held in their excitement to see him far too long and now they were bursting at the seams. Behind the twins, red-headed Colin was bouncing on the spot, until Chloe, who was right next to him, asked him rudely if he needed the jacks. Chloe's own hands were twisting in her skirt and her smile at him was a sunbeam straight to the heart. Even Eamon, the teenager of the bunch, has his dark head poking around the corner, pushing up his glasses with one nervous hand as he grinned at Aidan.

“Oy, what’s this? A pair of Irish banshees trying to call me to the Otherworld?” Hiding the sweet pain that shot through him at seeing them, and all of them so overjoyed to see
him
, Aidan gathered the little ones into his arms. He loved children, particularly these children.

He let the twins dangle, squealing, as he leaned over to kiss Chloe’s cheek, then made smacking noises at Colin, who danced away as his sister’s cheeks burned.

“And who's this great big man I see before me?” He set down the two C’s carefully and stretched out his hand solemnly to Eamon, who shook it with a shy laugh.

“Oh, quit that, Unc Aidan. I haven’t grown an inch since ye last seen me.”

“Well, tha’ll be changing soon enough, wonna it?” Aidan stared around at them all, feeling a selfish pang at realizing since the curse had broken, they would all grow up now. These children he had known for so well for a hundred years or more…and then lost.

And now would lose again. They would grow up out of his sight, out of his reach. Just like…

The room slid away from him for a moment, becoming another room full of firelight, the sound of the sea and a child's laughter.

The memory slashed so viciously, he stumbled and would have fell against the wall except for Eamon’s strong hand round his wrist pulling him upright.

“Unc? Ye alright?” The blast of concern washed over him like a cool balm, even as Chloe dashed forward and ducked her head under his arm, supporting him as he struggled to stop swaying. Over the dark blonde head tucked close against his ribs, he caught Heather’s violet eyes, full of shock and something else he couldn’t place before he looked down at Chloe again.

“Oy, o'course I am! Mayhap I took on too much of yer Uncle Ronan’s Irish is all. Innit that the way of it, Ronan?”

Ronan, who had just padded into the kitchen and pulled Lacey out of her chair and into his arms, only nodded grudgingly until Aidan shot him a prompting glare over Chloe’s head.

“Oh aye. Tha’s what happens when people go away from home too long. Ye find their stomach gets a mite weak…fer the hard stuff.” He gave Aidan a sour look while the children laughed.

Eamon distracted Aidan from his attempt to psychically eviscerate Ronan with his eyes, by asking if Aidan by chance followed the football now. Soon he was pulled into a conversation about Ireland’s chances this year. Before he knew it the children had maneuvered him neatly into the living room. Chloe was perched on his chair, the twins were in his lap, with Colin at his feet. Eamon sat across from him, waxing philosophic about the joys of stomping all over England. The other adults drifted in, a cup of tea was pressed into his hand, and Aidan realized he wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, would be another story.

 

“My master, I have no wish to be impertinent—” The words dried up in Declan’s throat as
Abhartach
cut him off with a sardonic look.

“A wise wish, on the whole.” They were not in the hall now, but in the king’s chambers. The outer chambers, of course. Declan had never been allowed into the inner sanctum, and until recently had despaired that he ever would. He had hope now, and hope made him bold.

To a point. His insides quaked in rubbery fear as the demon’s eyes rested like cold stones on his own.

Declan took a breath, aware he was treading on dangerous ground here, but he
must
know. All his hopes and dreams rested on
Abhartach
having O’Neill in his hands, because then, and only then, would he get his just reward.

Somehow the prince had escaped scot-free and was apparently just
sitting
in a house no more than an hour or two from the castle. At least that was what one of the lower vampires had told him snidely after the feast last night. The feast Declan had
not
been allowed to attend.

On the whole, that was probably a good thing, he reminded himself sternly. Vampires in full blood lust were not always mindful of who was food, and who was not.

“As you say, of course.” Declan continued delicately. “But I must confess a burning curiosity, my master, to hear your plan. I know all too well that you have one, and a brilliant one, to be sure. If it is your pleasure to indulge me, I would be most grateful, otherwise, pray forgive me, Master.” He was not allowed to address
Abhartach
as king, your Majesty or Highness.

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