Shadows of the Keeper (53 page)

Silence stretched, her hand still
upon the balustrade.  Behind her, the hall’s silence was as heavy as the
twins she carried.  Broc sighed, defeated.  “Ye’ ‘ave mi’ word,
Princess Emily.”

“Isolation is where I will remain
for the duration of this pregnancy.”

“Lass—“

“Your word is your honor, Forest
Lord.”  Finally, she turned to face him.  Amber eyes glittered with
tears, her face awash with their fall.  “But, occasionally, healing hearts
to proceed, your company would be . . . treasured.”

Something in Broc expanded. 
Frozen heart reacted of its own accord from her offer.  Instantly thawed,
it flooded with the warmth of—dare he even think it—hope.  Fear dragged a
shroud to drape over him, for would he once again awaken, Emily’s words
whispered in a dream?  And then, he would be left to do what none knew . .
. and he would die before admitting. 

Broc greeted each new day as he’d
left the previous.  Tears of torment, and self-loathing over what he’d
done, vile words he could never eradicate from one he loved so deeply, he’d lay
down and die in place of her beloved.  Just to gain her forgiveness. 
To see her smile.  Nearing the top stair, grasping tightly the balustrade,
he could see, even from here, her knuckles whitening, her burden heavy. 
Determined to climb unassisted, she’d waved them off many times.  He
watched, unable to do ought else until she was no more than a memory having
rounded the deep corridor long moments ago.

The very minute she knew she was
out from his line of vision, Emily sagged against the wall.  Past
experience, one stumble and they’d spill over themselves getting to her. 
They had done enough.  Exhausted, her despair only became more
acute.  She’d not really taken into context what Dezenial’s warning had
truly entailed, should one of them perish.  How in the hell was she to
carry on?  And now, feelings for Broc blossomed.  Betrayal to Dezenial’s
memory.  Pregnancy.  Nothing more than crazy hormones.  She
rubbed her stomach, knowing she was about to be kicked, having dared think of
another man other than their father.  But no pulverizing of her innards
transpired.  She sighed, resting her head back, the wall doing a fantastic
job of holding her up right now.  There was an odd comfort this ancient
keep gave her.  A sense of being home.  For the thousandth time,
tears poured.  Chin quivered.  Torn.  Confused. 
Angry.  Bitter. 

And so very weak. 

Twice now, though she spoke of it
to none, she’d been seized with severe dizziness.  Sitting quickly, her
vision would darken for several long moments.  Consciousness would return
with her slumped in the chair.  Tell someone and have them hover, or—

“Perhaps ye’ would allow me ta’
simply escort you to your chambers.”

Emily opened her bleary eyes. 
“That would be nice.  The stairs, you know.”

“Aye, lass, ‘tis almost over.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered,
shocked she’d voiced such an intimate confession.  Infuriating trembling resumed. 
Something was definitely wrong.  She should send for Maeve.  Daily,
she weakened, but Colin could find no cause.  Sometimes, her nails would
turn blue.  Was her heart giving out?

“Of?”

What had they been
talking—oh.  “Labor.  Pain.  Motherhood.”  She looked down
at herself.  “My babies having only me.”

“They need not be raised alone by
ye’, Emily.”  He held his breath, stunned he’d let that slip.  She’d
shred him for sure.  Send him away.  Never speak to him again. 
Set flame to him.

Her tears turned her amber eyes
into glittering jewels.

“No riddles, Broc.  Your
words.”

He fought valiantly, a silent war
waging within. 

Emily sensed he was terrified to
speak his heart. 

He took a hesitant step
closer.  Slowly, he reached out, his trembling hand settling over hers.
Throughout the castle, there seemed to exist a pause. 

As if every living creature knew
something delicate was coming to pass. 

“Would you . . . like . . . to
feel?”

“Aye,” his voice cracked.  “I
would be verra honored.”

Delicately, she positioned his
battle-calloused hand around the side of her stomach.  She closed her
eyes.  Unbeknownst to Broc, Emily spoke to her children, conscious they
read her mind as easily as their father had.  She was grateful she
couldn’t read theirs, feeling a child should possess the privacy of thought;
she was positive, when they became teens, there would be regret for her lacking
ability.  She shared with them from the beginning when she’d first laid
eyes on the Highlander.  How she’d dreamt of him before ever meeting
him.  Memories of another lifetime, in another age.  The spats they’d
had, then and now.  The love they’d once shared—and lost.  Her great
love for their father, though she knew this last part was redundant.  She
conveyed her fear, confusion of being so alone, and her fierce oath she’d
protect them.  Emily hoped they’d kick, allowing Broc to feel the life
within her.  She held her breath.  Stillness would let her know she
was to push him forever out of her life.  They would never accept him.

Their happiness came first.

A flutter at first, so faint, she
almost missed it.

“Lass?” Broc whispered.

She opened her eyes. 
Suddenly, she sucked in her breath.  The kick to her side was so strong,
she thought for sure she’d see bruising, if she looked in a mirror. 
“You’re grinning like a boy who’s just had his first kiss.”

“Does it hurt?  ‘Tis
amazing
!”

“That one did, but it was meant
to.”

Quickly, he removed his hand. 
Kicking commenced to pound where his hand had been.  She snatched his
hand, pressed it back against her side and sighed with sweet relief.  And
placed his other hand on the opposite side of her stomach.  Kicking softer
against Broc’s hands, several times,  commenced before the twins
settled.  “I doona’ understand why that was supposed ta’ hurt.”

“They accept you.”  She
waited, daring him to claim impossibility.  Instead, he nodded.

“And their mother?”

“Your vile words haunt me, even
when I sleep.”  His hands dropped and she instantly missed their warmth.

“I am sworn ta’ protect you, cursed
to never again be allowed to call ye’ mi’ own.  Our immortality is
punishment for abandoning you.”

“No,” she shook her head.  “It
was a different time then.”

“I allowed mi’ people ta’ turn on
ye’.  I encouraged it.  And recently, have had revealed to me tha’
Na’Dryn conspired with Lumynari, which lead to so many deaths—deaths I blamed
Aurelia for.  Deaths tha’ were mi’
own
fault for turning on the one
woman whose heart I had been gifted with.  Aurelia.  She was no’ just the
exiled royal.  She was mi’ wife.  Thirty-six hundred years, every day, I face
tha’ I did no’ just betray my people and Aurelia, I betrayed mi’ self.  I live
with this every day I exist, Lady Emily. 
Every
day.”

His pain too great to witness, she
looked down at her pregnancy.  Profoundly shocked when she dared peek up
at him, she almost reached out.  Almost.

Broc MacLarrin’s face was damp with
tears.  And, there was no shame.

“I would raise the bairns as mi’
own.  With all the pride I possess as a mohn, I give oath they will
never
be allowed ta’ forget their sire.”

Emily’s hand flew to her
mouth.  She tried speaking, only to sob harder.  She nodded several
times, leaning towards him, head bowed.

Laird MacLarrin pulled Emily into
an embrace that encompassed her unborn twins . . . and a goodly portion of her
heart.  Neither witnessed smiles and tears of clan and Elves tiptoeing
away, breathing sighs of relief.

At long last, their laird forgave
his past
and
his present.

Icy gust of wind snapped Emily from
her reverie.  Warmth of fire was what she needed.  Breath shuddered
in front of her.  She grabbed the low wall, steadying herself. 
Dizzy. 
So damn dizzy.  All the time now.
  Peripherals evening out, she
slipped back into the darkened alcove, and failed to notice Eldaryn from whence
he watched.  Nor did she see the hound drop his heads, softly whimpering
over being powerless to heal his mistress’ sorrow.

Aunsgar interchanged hurtling and
dashing down the wide stairwell that spilled from his private towers. 
Soft boots skidded to a halt in the great hall, his long white hair askew.

Unusual Elvish display stilled and
terrified every Forest Lord.

Months had passed since their laird
and lady had called truce.  Were they warring?  Nay, couldna’ be, the
Lady Emily too weakened of late with the last stages of pregnancy.  Still . . .
why else would the austere Elf be charging towards them?

“Lumynari arrive.  Nay,”  he
waved them down.  “Stay your weaponry.  Allies!”  No sooner
voiced, thirteen Lumynari warriors stepped from thin air.  None dared even
flex, though sharp inhales and gulping sounded over three hearths of crackling
fires.

“
Dad
?”  Emily called
down, her voice quavering.  Her hand covered her mouth.

The deadliest of the brood stepped
forward.  His feral smile caused Maeve to step against Reignsfeugh. 
Any other time, the open display of affection would have been cause for ribald
teasing. 

“I should cut out your tongue,
addressing me as such in public.”

Tears leapt to Emily’s eyes,
glittering like amber jewels.  “I’d torch you bald.”

“A sound thrashing as well.”

“I have hoped for so long that you
would come.  I thought . . . you blamed me.”  Clutching the
balustrade, she made her way down.  Each step felt like her feet came down
on shards of glass.  Her girth was too vast for her to see the next
step.  At this pace, it would take her two hours before she made it
down. 

Aedan bounded up the stairs, two
and three at a time, and offered assistance.

“Chaos rules Balkore.  I have
had much avenging to take care of, and, little one, my concern was the grief my
presence would cause you.”

Little one
murmured
throughout Broc’s hall.

“That’s what he used to call
me.”  A slight shake of her head, Emily descended, grasping Aedan for dear
life.  “I’m going to hurt your hand and arm.”

“Nay, lass. Ye’ hold on and I’ll
guide ye’.”

She’d abandoned the stairs,
everyone coming up to her chambers to share meals and company.  But the
air had thickened a moment ago, a strange rousing and she knew. 
Hoped
. 
“You came.”  She stopped for a moment, fighting yet another wave of
dizziness.

“Lass?”

Emily offered Aedan a smile. 
“Stairs.  Murder on my feet.  Babies weigh a ton.”

“Aye.  Only a few more and
we’re done.”

“Garreck?  Could you have
someone see our guests receive chambers?  Maeve, with your consent, Cianna
will see to the dining of my father’s regiment.  Their food is . . .
peculiar
.”

Another rippling murmur filled the
hall,
father
.

Inzyr cocked a white brow. 
His vaifyr proudly ambled with her great burden towards him.  But she was
far weaker than she or the Forest Lords realized, failing to understand what
she’d gone without for too long.  If he didn’t rectify the situation, the
birthing would be her death.  He handed off his javelin to a guard,
returning his watch upon his offspring.  She was as beautiful as her
mother had been when carrying her. 

“Aedan, help me to show respect.”

“As ye’ will.”

Though awkward for her, and death gripping
the young Fey—which Inzyr kept tight vigil on, Fey ancient enemies of
Lumynari—Emily curtseyed low before her sire.  Inzyr’s hand clasped her
forearms, assisting her to rise.  “You far outrank me, daughter, but I am
honored you would cede deference.”  He eyed surrounding humans watching
his every move—waiting for an excuse to pounce he and his warriors. 
Fools.  When they saw what was about to occur . . .

“Don’t deny you enjoy the
respect.  I feel it due you, regardless.”  Over his shoulder, she offered
greetings to his retinue in Balkorian.  Nods were bequeathed in
return.  One smiled.  Odd.  Lumynari
never
smiled. 
Okay, just before a kill, but no such event would be tolerated in her
presence.  Regardless the oddity of hospitality, she offered it anyway,
assuring them their comfort would be seen to. Her eyes snapped back to the
warrior. 
Wasn’t he the one who carried me, offering warmth when first
marched to my father’s quarters?
 

“You are welcome as friend.” 
She inhaled deeply, spots of light dancing before her eyes.  Dizzy spells
had intensified these past two weeks, though she continued keeping it
hidden.  Nothing, however, passed Cianna’s scrutiny.  But, the woman
had yet to say a word, though she gave her peculiar stares.  “These aren’t
true Lumynari, are they?”  she whispered.  Hades’ Elite Daemons, she
would bet her life on it. 

“ ‘Tis her father.  I heard
correctly?”  Finnegan whispered.  Colin jabbed him with a well-placed
elbow.

“Your eyes leak.  A sign of
weakness, vaifyr.”

“My body betrays me
constantly.”  Soft giggles escaped, followed with more tears and sniffing.
 “You cut your beautiful hair.”

His solemn nod brought tremendous
gratitude.  Extremely rare for Lumynari, her father sheared his long
beautiful hair, a public display of grief for a fallen comrade.  She
stepped closer, unable to raise her head, unable to staunch her tears.

Inzyr eyed his guard feebly before
sweeping his heavily muscled arms around his child, pulling her sideways
against him, his hand resting upon his nestled grandchildren.  “I am
here.  We stay as long as you need.”  He kissed the top of her head,
nuzzling his offspring.

Men gawked.  Maeve glared at
them, then dabbed her eyes.  Cianna followed suit.

Even louder sniffing echoed from
somewhere above.  “I smell rot!  Hmmm.  Ah, yes, I
have
smelled this before.  Lumynari be upon us!” 

Inzyr’s eyes ignited.  “Tell
me, Eldaryn, are you finally housebroke, or do you still require the occasional
clubbing across your snouts with rolled paper?”

Growling erupted.  The beast
charged down wide stone stairs four and five at a time. Body mass
rippled.  Men yelped, leapt upon tables and one another.  Emily
ambled around, her arms out to ward off the beast’s attack.

“You will move and allow me to rip
out his throat,” Eldaryn ordered.

“Touch my father and I’ll burn you
down to your bones.”

Eldaryn growled menacingly. 
“Your threats become redundant.”

“S’blood!  Have ye’ no’
learned not ta’ entice the lass’ temper?”  Garreck roared, charging
towards them.  He threw himself in front of Emily, her own eyes glowing
brilliantly.  “Lass, ‘tis a mutt.  He does not rationalize like the
rest of us.  An animal in dire need of a leash.  Let it pass.”

“One bite and you’ll no longer own
a head.”

Molasses slow, Garreck turned his
head to look over his shoulder while raising emerald green eyes up, and up, and
up.  Two sets of eyes hungrily fixated on his skull. 

“Have I mastered human’s penchant
for humor?”  To Garreck’s horror and utter shock—and to the amusement of
everyone else—a tongue lapped from Garreck’s chin all the way up to his
hairline.  Emily gasped.  Garreck’s dark hair stood straight up and
gooey.  A few Lumynari snickered.  Garreck erupted into spitting,
spewing fury, babbling words in ancient Pict, Quemorian and Gaelic. 
Forest Lords roared, backslapping as their commander swiped his face free of
beast-sludge.

“I am ever-so-grateful, vaifyr,
that you would place yourself in front of me.”

Emily faced him.  “He would
have killed you.”

Inzyr arched a white brow down at
her.

“Sorry.  It’s not like you
couldn’t skin him on your own.”  They ignored Eldaryn’s snort and
mutterings about Lumynari legs tasty when raw.

“Now I am forced to have to maim
you just to show my guards I am not so aged as to require a female to fend off
beast or man.”

Garreck’s fingers wrapped ‘round
his hilt.

Eyes still on Emily, Inzyr warned,
“Forest Lord, your weapon would do better to decorate your mode of dress than
to be pulled on me.  My daughter realizes I but jest.  She is more
safe with this squad and myself than even the care you bestow upon her.” 
His eyes simmered faintly, before resuming amber, matching her own.  His
knuckles caressingly grazed her cheek.  She appreciated the show of
affection, a rare display for Shadow Masters, but it also served to prove her
theory these were not Lumynari warriors standing at his back.  He was too
relaxed with his warmth.  Good thing, for she was in sore need of the
comfort his small gesture evoked.

His deep exhale warned not all was
well.

“Indonin?” She reverted to Balkorian.

“We must speak.  Now. 
Haste is required and you will obey me or you will not live to see your twins.”

She made to step away, but his
large hand snaked out, grabbing her.  His eyes swept over Garreck and . .
. ah, the Fey creature’s name was Aedan.  He addressed the man his vaifyr
had used as a crutch.  “I will not harm her.  You will listen to
me.  Dezenial was far more than any of you realize.  She has tasted
of him, their souls intertwined.  Her paleness isn’t the burden of
pregnancy.  She’s dying.”

Gasps and crazed murmurs filled the
hall.  Men surged towards her.  Urkani stepped from the
cluster.  “If he has passed, whom will she drink from?” 

The Elf’s knowledge almost
surprised Inzyr.

“Drink
from
?  What the
hell
is going on?” Emily snapped.  Her back throbbed, had been since late last
night.  The babies kept kicking her ribs until she just knew her bones
were tenderized enough to gnaw.  Instead of answering her, her sire
directed his glare on Garreck.

“You will keep your men away from
what I must do.  She needs blood.  There is no time to explain what
is about to ensue—as if I would.  The twins come.  If she does not
feed, you will be burying her by morning.  And then, I will be burying
you
. 
In
numerous
pieces.”

“Stand down your weapons,” came the
clear command from the stairwell.”

“Aye,” Forest Lords chorused,
obeying the MacLarrin.

“Do what you must, but one hair on
her head harmed and you and I will battle like days of auld.”  Broc
quickly descended, long powerful strides bringing him across the great hall in
no time.  “Her heart may belong to another, but mine is with her.  I
will kill you, or die trying, if this is but trickery to harm her.”

“Broc—“

“No, vaifyr.  I would not
tolerate you being under the care of anything less than someone foolish enough
to challenge me.  Better a warrior than a coward, especially where you’re
concerned.”  Inzyr nodded his respect to Broc.

“You men and your stupid
battles.”  Emily swayed.  Inzyr grabbed her, steadying her. 
“Indonin, I don’t feel well.  Haven’t for weeks.  My ears
ring.”  White spots zigzagged in front of her.

“Vaide.  Come.”  Of his
group, the most lethal, yet most beautiful to behold stepped forward. 
“No, Emily, remain.  You are daughter of Lumynari, granddaughter of a
goddess . . . and the widow of a Daemon-God.  You will
not
cower.”  Inzyr’s eyes ignited, silencing eruption of whispers regarding
his revelations.  “You must feed.”

“Drinking from Dezenial,” her eyes
squeezed shut, for mention of his name bruised her, “led to,” she eyed those
within hearing.  Bastards were suddenly very enthralled by her every
word. 
Well, hell
.  “Erotic sex.” There.  It was
out.  Her face heated.  She felt like she’d just confessed to a bunch
of nuns.

“The scent of blood will have the
desired effect.”

“Yeah, okay, ‘cept, all this
testosterone forever sword playing, there’s been plenty of blood to smell and
not once has it triggered—“

Inzyr slashed a small blade across
Vaide’s neck.  Forest Lords took a collective step back.  The Daemon
didn’t even flinch from Inzyr’s assault.  Nor did his mesmerizing gaze
waver from Emily.  Thin river of blood captivated her.

“Tell me, daughter, do you smell
your nectar?”

She licked parched lips.

“Daemon blood, vaifyr, will set
your own to boil.  Drink your fill, he is here for you, gifted from
Hades.  You will use him often, or you will die.”  He shrugged. 
“If sexual release is needed, he is most adept in that as well.”

“
Dad
.”

“Lumynari, daughter.  Remember
our differences from your human sensitivities.”

“Dezenial . . . promised I was not
. . . a vampire.  The sun doesn’t make me burn.”  She had yet to
remove her gaze from blood now saturating Vaide’s collar.  Slowly, he
removed silky tunic, allowing it to whisper to the floor.  That simple act
had to be the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed.  His body equated a
chiseled from stone warrior.  His neck arched ever-so-slight.

He knew, oh how the cretin knew,
flow of his blood increased.

Her gums itched. 
Throbbed.  Mouth parted as her fangs began to pull.

“Lass?”

She was deaf, roar of blood
coursing through the Daemon’s veins.  Mouth salivated.  Fangs
elongated, her head tilting back.  Inhaling deeply, her eyes closed, his
scent intoxicating.

“Come to me, Vaide,” she said in a
voice none recognized.

The powerful male dutifully sank to
his knees, bowing to his queen like a knight from the dark ages.  Tilting
his head, a slight smile parting his mouth, he swept his long, glossy black
hair aside.  Forever graceful, Emily gently pushed his hand away. 
“I’m feeling the need to dominate.”  She cupped his smooth face, looking
deeply into his yellow eyes.  “You truly belong to me?”

“There will be times you will need
to feed,” his baritone, heavily accented voice kindled something deep within
her.  “I am here to protect and to satisfy . . .
all
of your
cravings.”  His large hand caressed her swollen abdomen.  Her twins
kicked him.