Onyx (3 page)

Storm bent down to examine Onyx, p
ulling the man’s green and purple plaid from his shoulder and opening his saffron leine. He looked at Onyx with his tousled shoulder-length, black hair and the rugged stubble on his face, the image of a true MacKeefe Highlander.

His eyes stared
straight up at Storm, but not once did he blink. One eye of orange, and the other of black, Onyx had always been feared as a demon by those who didn’t know him. It was an eerie site, and unsettling to say the least.

Storm leaned over and placed
his ear against his drinking partner’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. The pub was noisy, but if there was a beat, he couldn’t hear it. Then he reached under Onyx’s nose, feeling for breath. When he found neither he just shook his head sadly.

The crowd became noisy talking amon
gst themselves, the concern in their words echoing the concern in Storm’s own heart. Onyx’s demonic-looking eyes were opened wide, and sent a shiver through Storm’s body. He never had gotten used to looking at the lad, even after all these years.

“Aye,” he said sadly, getting to his feet. “Onyx MacKeefe, the poor laddie
, is stone-cold dead.”

“Let me through,” shouted Fenella, making her way to her son who was prone on t
he floor. Onyx’s two best friends, Aidan and Ian followed right behind her.

“Dagger,
get up,” said Aidan, getting down on his knees and shaking him. He used the name for Onyx that his close friends called him, because he always had his gemstone dagger at his side. A black onyx stone with a crazy orange crack, just like Onyx’s terrifying eyes.

“Aidan,” said Ian, putting his hand on his f
riend’s shoulder. “He’s deid. ’Tis too late te save him.”

Ian was taller than Aidan and had dark hair, while Aidan was blond
. They both were two of the sturdiest, strongest men of the MacKeefe clan, their muscles and physique always getting them more women than Onyx, though Onyx’s build was not a shabby site. But because of his terrifying eyes, they’d often had to pay whores to bed their friend, as no respectable woman ever wanted to be near him.

“
Nay, ’tis no’ too late. Ye dinna ken how te do it, thet’s all,” said Fenella, reaching out the toe of her shoe and putting it under her son’s body. She nudged him slightly, but nothing happened.

“I’m so sorry,” said Ian, putting his arm around the wo
man. “Dagger was a guid man.”

“Aye,” said Aidan, trying to hide the fact he wiped a tear from his eye. “Our best friend.”

“Ye
dunderheids
. Both of ye. Ye really ken nothin’ of yer
best
friend. Onyx, get up off th’ floor afore ye catch a draft.” Fenella actually kicked him this time, getting a gasp from the crowd.

“Fenella, how can
ye be so heartless?” asked Storm, “To
stob
yer toe on yer own deid son?”

“That was no stob, that was a quick, swift kick, Laird MacKeefe,” she told him. “And had he fallen on his face
, I’d o’ kicked him in the doup.”

“
Och, woman,” spat Storm’s grandfather, Callum MacKeefe. “He was yer own son, yet ye dinna shed a tear.”

“Bid the dev
il, I tell ye he isna deid,” she said. “Give me a
stoop
o’ ale someone. Quickly.”

“Da?” asked Renard. “How can she drink at a time like this?”

“I dinna ken, son.”

A serving wench handed her a pitcher of ale and she took it
with both hands.

“
’Tis no’ fer me,” she told them. “’Tis fer me son.” She turned it over and emptied it over his face, then dropped the metal pitcher atop his chest. “Get up ye
galoot
and show them ye can hold yer whisky.”

“Heartless,” said someone from the crowd.

“I canna even believe this,” said someone else with a gasp.

The crowd started getting louder, not liking what the woman was doing, and Storm raised his hand to quiet them down.

“
Wheesht!”
he called out so everyone could hear him. “Ye’re being loud enough te raise the deid.”

Then Onyx’s pet
Scottish wildcat kitten slipped through the crowd and started licking his face. It was not a safe pet to have, but Onyx had loved to live a risky life. It jumped atop his chest and settled down and curled up as if it were going to take a nap.

“Fenella, I dinna think . . .” started Aidan, but the woman just held up her hand.

“Give it a wee bit o’ time,” she said, and the entire room was quiet and watched in eager anticipation.

Then, Onyx
suddenly sputtered and gasped and coughed, trying to regain his breath. He grabbed the cat atop him, his eyes wide and crazed and started to shake it.

“I’ll
kill ye, ye bastard fer dumpin’ yer drink on me.”

“Dagger, ye
’re alive!” Aidan pushed his way toward his friend happily.

“And ye
’re killin’ yer own cat, ye fool.” Ian laughed, and reached out a hand to help his friend to his feet.

“Sorry
, Tawpie,” Onyx said, placing the tan and black striped kitten gently on the ground. “Ye always were foolish and thet’s why I named ye thet. Dinna ye ken ne’er te get near me when I’m like this?”

“All right, everyone b
ack te yer own business and quit gawkin’,” said Fenella.

“How aboot
another round of drinks?” asked Callum with a raised hand.

“I’ll take one,” said Onyx,” getting up and brushing off his tartan.

“Nay ye won’t,” said his mother sternly. “Ye ken what happens e’ery time ye get well in yer cups or are in an insufferable situation.”

“This has happened before?” asked Storm, as the crowd went back to their merrymaking.

“I’ve never seen it,” said Ian, “and we’ve been friends our entire life.”

“Me neither,” agreed
Aidan, with a shake of his head. “And we’ve been in many insufferable situations together.”

“That’s because
he normally controls himself,” said Fenella. “Because he kens when he acts like a dolt, he dies another deith, so te speak.”

“What does the
t mean?” asked Aidan.

“Ne’
er mind,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Now watch yerself Onyx, and stay out o’ trouble.”

“Of course, mathair,
and I’m sorry fer worryin’ ye.” He placed a kiss on her cheek and she headed away.

“Come on,” said Aidan. “Let’s go
. We’ve got yer birthday surprise waitin’ out in the stables.”

“Aye
, all three of them,” added Ian with a grin. “Just in case ye need a little help, we thought we’d join ye.”

“All three?” asked Onyx with a
pleased nod, collecting his sword from the trestle table and strapping it on the opposite side of his dagger. He and his friends never went anywhere without their weapons, and Onyx was able to use them left or right-handed, it didn’t matter. “Dinna tell me ye got all three of the randy Lowlander triplet sisters all at once? Which one is fer me? The bonnie one with the cute little doup or the one with the big breasts?”

“
Neither. You get the one thet screams like a banshee in heat when she’s being pleasured,” said Aidan. “And thet’s why we put them in the stables, far away from curious ears. Now let’s go already, as the night is sharp and
snell
and there’s no tellin’ how long they’ll wait fer us.”

Onyx knew the weather was very frigid, but he and his friends had never been bothered by it. They often jumped in the
loch
in the middle of winter just for fun, and hardly ever wore a cloak over their tartans even when it snowed.

They
headed out the door in just their billowed-sleeved leines covered by their wool tartans. Their legs were partially bare, but long, tall boots bound by cord wrapped their lower legs up to their knees.

The
ir green and purple plaids identified them as being of the MacKeefe clan. They were a Highland clan, but in the winters most the clan stayed at Hermitage Castle in the Lowlands and near the English border. The castle had been taken back from the English and once again belonged to the Scots thanks to Storm MacKeefe. And since his English wife wanted to live in the castle rather than the cold, that’s where Storm had kept his family, going back to the Highlands only in the summer.

And old Callum MacKeefe owned the Horn and Hoof Pu
b in Glasgow, so once again the clan was split. Onyx preferred staying in the Highlands, and he and his friends resided there throughout the winters, as they were always up for a challenge. And a Highland winter was just that, as they could become very treacherous indeed.

On
yx loved feeling alive, and did anything he could to prove it. The more dangerous or risky, the better. He and his friends, Ian and Aidan were so crazy that everyone started calling the three of them the Madmen MacKeefe when they saw them. Onyx liked this. And he also felt as if he hadn’t done anything to make himself feel alive in a long time now.

“Dinna ever scare us like the
t again,” said Ian, grabbing Onyx in a headlock under his arm.

“Aye, we
didna ken ye could play deid.” Aidan rushed over and jumped atop Onyx, knocking him to the ground.

“I’ll kill ye fer the
t,” shouted Onyx, reaching up and pulling Aidan toward him, flipping him over his head. Aidan’s sword got tangled in his tartan in the process and slammed down on the ground next to him, still sheathed. Ian reached out to help him, and Onyx’s legs shot up and locked around his friend, pulling him to the ground as well.

“We willna wait all
blasted
gloamin’
fer ye laddies,” came a girl’s voice from the stables just outside the pub.

The t
hree men stopped their roughhousing and looked at each other, then hurriedly got to their feet, brushing off their plaids.

“Tim
e te celebrate yer birthday, guid friend,” said Ian, hitting Onyx on the back, “ye lucky son o’ a bitch.”

“Dinna refer te me
mathair as such, or ye’ll find yerself on the ground again,” Onyx warned him, then smiled.

“Come on, Dagger,
these are real ladies, not hoors,” Aidan pointed out. “And we didna have te pay them a single coin either.”

Onyx knew the
Lowlander triplets were far from ladies. And he also knew that they’d probably only agreed to bed Onyx because his friends were part of the bargain. And as Aidan and Ian were both a good five years older than him, he knew they had bedded these lassies many times through the years, while Onyx had to settle for whores.

His
eyes had scared away any bonnie lassie he’d ever met, and if he wanted to bed a woman who wasn’t a whore, he knew he’d better take up the offer quickly. But still, he felt angry now that his little problem was exposed of passing out and turning blue every time he got drunk or when life became overwhelming. He hated the way anxiety seemed to overtake him in certain situations, and that he could do nothing about it.

He couldn’t wait to get back to the Highlands and his clan –
where he felt safe and at ease. The fresh, crisp air of the Grampian mountains settled him, and the rolling meadows and fields of heather had always been a place he spent his time relaxing. He loved lying under the stars, staring up at the vast, open sky, listening to the sound of the bleating sheep in the hills, until he was finally lulled to sleep. Nay, the outdoors didn’t bother him, but being in small, enclosed places was what really unsettled him. That is, being trapped in a confinement, not able to breathe. He wasn’t sure why this was, but he hoped some day he’d figure it out.

He felt embarrassed
by what happened tonight, and also bad for putting his mother in this situation. He wanted to make sure she was all right and not still angry with him. He knew he doted over her, but since he had no siblings, nor a father, he felt it was his duty to take care of the woman who birthed him and gave him life.

But he wouldn’t tell his friends, beca
use they would only tease him of the protective nature he had for his mother. But she was all he had, as he’d never even known his father. And he would give his life if need be to protect her, as she meant the world to him.

“Wait,” he said, stopping his friends. “I
feel bad about almost stranglin’ Tawpie to death. “I’m goin’ te go find her first and make sure she’s no’ hurt.”

“She’s a cat, dammit,” sai
d Ian. “The lassies are waitin’, and I assure ye they’ll enjoy the pettin’ more than that damn cat of yers.”

“Och
, ye fool. Leave the cat. Ye’ll find plenty te keep ye warm in the stables,” growled Aidan.

“Go ahead,” he said, stopping and turning ar
ound, still feeling the effects of having had so much mountain magic. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

He headed back toward the Horn a
nd Hoof while his friends continued toward the stables. But before he got there, men quickly approaching on horseback had him turning around. They’d nearly run him over as the party of over a half-dozen men stopped at the pub. They traveled by night and several of the men held lit torches in their hands.