Smoke in Moonlight (Celtic Elementals Book 1) (15 page)

He did things with his mouth she'd never even considered before. It was a brutally thorough kiss. Lacey was clinging to him weakly when he finally ended it.

"Donna ye taste it?” he whispered, lowering her feet to the rug and peeling her hands from his shoulders.

"What?" Lacey asked, seeing him through a haze of shock and desire.

"The darkness."

She stared, transfixed by the depth of pain in his eyes. The pain
he was
letting
her see. More than anything, Ronan dropping his guard stunned her silent for several long moments.

"Yes,” Lacey admitted finally, watching his powerful shoulders shudder once at her words. Then she reached up and pulled his head back down to hers, so they were eye to eye. "But that's not all there is to you, Ronan."

He laughed bitterly, starting to twist away. "Donna be so sure, lass. I'm no'." She wouldn't release him, though they both knew he could have forced her to.

"I want you," she whispered. "I'm sure of that." For a moment, Lacey was thought Ronan was going to break her hold and stalk away.

Again.

Instead he just closed his eyes briefly, before picking her up and walking to the bed. He tossed her onto the vast, velvety comforter before giving her a grim smile.              

"Be careful what ye wish for."

Thump, thump, THUMP!

Lacey lifted her head from the pillow with a groan. She was so sleepy, so deliciously achy and sore and
satisfied
—

And she was going to kill whoever was pounding on Ronan's door.

Ronan made an inarticulate sound to her left, obviously thinking along the same lines, his arm slung heavily over her ribs, the weight pinning her to the bed. She sighed and ran her fingers over his hand that rested against her bare stomach, snuggling back into the pillows and his warmth. Maybe it was just a dream—

"
Damnú ort!
Open this fucking door, Fitzpatrick, before I fry me arse!"

Ronan shot up at that voice, pulling Lacey with him and tangling them both in the covers. He cursed and freed himself with difficulty, before grabbing a colorful afghan from the mussed bed and slinging it around his naked hips.

"I know ye're in there! I can
smell
ye, ye mangy mutt! Fuck!" The walls shook as whoever was outside kicked the door. To Lacey's amazement, Ronan had a grin on his face as he motioned her to stay in bed, before throwing the covers over her.

She peeped out from under the mass of blankets to as he walked to the door and threw it open.

"Feisigh do thoin fein!"
Ronan yelled at someone she couldn't see.

"Tha's a physical impossibility, mate. I oughta know. I’ve tried. Damme, let me in. I'm about to get one hell of a sunburn."

“Tá fáilte romhat sa teach seo, mo dheartháir,"
She heard Ronan's words, then there was the sound of two hard bodies colliding as Ronan embraced the man who had just crossed the threshold.

He was maybe a finger's breath taller than Ronan, though not having Ronan's bulk, he looked even taller than that. His long, lean body was clad entirely in black. Black leather trench coat, soft black turtleneck, black jeans and black boots. Crystalline blue eyes so pale they were almost white looked around the room, skimming over the bed where Lacey lay hidden. The man's lips curved in a smirk as he shook his head, dark blonde curls shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Holding out on me, mate?"

"Yeah, like I don't know ye smelled her from a mile off." Ronan laughed and in her cocoon, Lacey frowned. "Preserving her modesty is more like."

"Well," the man with the crystal eyes rubbed his hands, also clad in black leather gloves, together. "Let us meet the chit."

Ronan's voice cooled ever so slightly. "No' a chit, O'Neill."

“Ooooh." Burnished gold eyebrows shot almost into those curls at Ronan's tone. "Now, isn't tha' just
fas
cinating?"

Ronan made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat. "Lacey," he growled. "Stick yer head out and say hello to Aidan O'Neill, one of Eire's great eejits."

Aidan clutched his heart as if mortally wounded before chuckling and sidling over to the bed.

Lacey pushed her head out from under the covers, trying to wrap the tangled sheet around her breasts with one hand. She extended the other warily.

"Hello, Aidan O'Neill." Her voice was cool, though she couldn't hide her interest at meeting a friend of Ronan's. He wasn't exactly handsome, though his face was certainly intriguing. And those crystal eyes were something else... almost mesmerizing.

They widened as he looked down at her.  "Aye," he murmured softly. "Definitely no' a chit." He took her hand with care, turning it palm up and brushing his lips against her wrist. Inexplicably, Lacey felt her heart lurch with a cold burst of fear and her eyes darted to Ronan. "It's okay, love." Aidan murmured, instantly dropping her hand and stepping back.

He looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Ye've nothing to fear from Aidan." Ronan said, though he moved to put himself between her and his friend. Whom he was giving a hard look.

"Bit hungry, are ye?"

"Bit." Aidan agreed, avoiding looking at Lacey, who was watching them curiously. "Nothing I canna handle. For the mo', anyway."

"Good, then let's have it. I'm dying to know why me best mate's turned back up after damme near a thousand years." Lacey's jaw dropped in tandem with Aidan's at Ronan's blithe words.

Aidan recovered first, his expression considering.

"Well, well, sharing the family secrets with civilians, are we now? Even more fascinating. Guess we do have loads to catch up on. But, damme, get on some pants, man. That afghan does
nothing
for yer legs." His eyes finally flickered back over to Lacey as Ronan chuckled.

"And make it snappy. I'm dead jacked, mate. In right need of a kip…and it looks like there's room for another in that scratcher." He shot Lacey a wink.

"In yer undead dreams, O'Neill." Ronan said, picking up Lacey and her sheet and walking to the bathroom.

"Gods, ye donna trust me at all." Aidan complained, rippling his fingers at Lacey with a sly smile as she and Ronan crossed the doorway.

"Damn straight, mate. I've known ye too long." Ronan said before kicking the door closed.

"What the hell was that all about?" Lacey hissed at him immediately. "Don't tell me he's another werewolf!" But she had a feeling she knew exactly what Aidan O'Neill was. She just didn't want to say it out loud.

Ronan smiled as he unwound the sheet from her, his hands wandering as he uncovered bare skin.

"Hell, no. Ye've just met yer first vampire, lass."

Lacey sighed, he just
had
to say it.

"And my last, I hope. You don't have any other friends I should know of, do you?"

"Only got the one." Ronan's hands moved upwards, cupping her breasts. She leaned into his touch, but not before she noticed a veil come down over his eyes. Something was off about this Aidan O’Neill. Other than the whole vampire thing. Then the rough pads of Ronan’s thumbs slid over her nipples and Lacey shivered. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, and she damn well knew she couldn't get enough of him. She rose to her toes to rub her lips over his...

"Oy!" Aidan's voice rang through the door, making Lacey jump and Ronan curse. "Psychic goddamn vampire out here! If ye two want to have at it, I'll just take tha' kip, what'd ye say?"

"
No
, O'Neill. Give us a mo'." Ronan grabbed a pair of jeans out of a built-in drawer, saying under his breath. "Gods, I'd almost forgotten how annoying Aidan can be."

"Heard tha'!"

"I know, ye worthless bloodsucker!" Ronan yelled, his voice booming through the small bathroom. But there was a smile on his face as he pulled on his jeans. Lacey could almost believe what Daire and the others had said about him now. He started to leave, but she caught his arm.

"What the hell am I going to wear?" she whispered. Their eyes both flicked to the shower, where her damp and torn clothes were still lying in a pile against the milky glass.

There was a soft chuckle from the other room.

Quarter of an hour later, Lacey was dressed in an old Guinness T-shirt of Ronan's that hung past her knees, sitting with Ronan on the hastily made bed, while Aidan leaned back in the wheeled chair.

The vampire rolled back and forth, studying the two of them with that eerie crystal gaze of his. Lacey put her hand on Ronan's denim-covered thigh. She wasn't sure she cared for the way Aidan O'Neill was looking at her.

"Do I get to hear what rock ye been hiding under all these years?" Ronan started.

"Been here, been there." Aidan waved a negligent hand. "But bugger tha'. We got more on our plates than catching up." He rubbed a leather-encased hand over his face. Lacey noticed how dark the hollows under Aidan's eyes were. "I pushed it all the way from Istanbul, mate. Took me three nights to get here."

"And what had ye in such a bloody rush?"

"Got a little head's up, I did. Bav sends her love." Aidan nodded at Ronan's violent curse. "Aye, pretty much what I said."

"Who is Bav?" Lacey asked quietly, not liking the dark looks that came over both men's faces at her question.

"Ye might know her better as the Morrighan, another goddess of the Tuatha de Danaan. Like Aine, but a wee more famous." Ronan explained, then glancing at Aidan, he said. "Aine's taken an interest in Lacey."

Something wordless passed between the men, something that made Lacey uneasy. Ronan had doubts about her still, she knew that and it made her stomach knot.

Lacey pulled her hand from his thigh. Ronan reached down and put it back, covering it securely with his own without looking at her. Aidan, however, was.

"Tha' right?" He'd sat up straighter in his chair, gaze narrowed ever so slightly. Lacey swore there was a definite chill there now, but he shrugged and said lightly, "Well, better Aine than Bav, love. Bav makes tha' chit look like friggin' Tinker Belle."

"Really? What's she the goddess of then?"

"Why, death, love." Aidan examined the fingertips of his gloves. "Tha's why her and me are so intimate like. Got a lot in common, we do." He sighed, looking up at Ronan. "She sent me a dream, mate. She was washing your laundry, if ye know what I mean."

"I do." Ronan's voice was grim, though unsurprised.

"Well, I don't." Lacey said in exasperation.

Ronan's hand tightened on hers, but he shook his head. "Later."

"
So
, in light of tha' I decided a quick trip home was in order. Took me a bit to find yer new place, o’ course. Or old place, as it turns out. Lucky for me ye smell so rank." Aidan yawned. "Saw yer handiwork on me way in, by the by. Something too important to wait on the moon? Or were ye just getting in some fencing practice?"

Ronan shrugged, giving a side-long glance at Lacey. "I had some energy to work off. But I did find out Aillen is getting creative. He sent a Changeling after me the other day."

“Tha's creative, mate?" Aidan sounded bored and tired, his head beginning to nod. "Sounds like same ol' same ol'..."

"And I do mean
day,
Aidan. As in the daylight." Ronan cut him off. Aidan's curly head came up very slowly.

"Come again?" he said, in a deadly soft voice that made Lacey aware, even more so than when she'd felt his lips on her wrist and gotten that shock of fear, of what Aidan was. For all his easy wit, Aidan was just as dangerous as Ronan.

Maybe more so.

"Ye heard me."

"Tha's bloody impossible, mate. Ye know the rules. Nae soul, nae sun." Aidan's face was hard.

"So, I've been told." Ronan said. "You know Changelings aren't great conversationalists, but they understood what I wanted well enough. Took a few heads, but I finally got something else off of one." He got to his feet and went through the bathroom door. Lacey looked at Aidan, but his eyes were fixed on the wall, his expression unreadable. Ronan came back, and sitting down again, held up a tiny glass vial, filled with a fine black powder.

"Tha' looks like smack." Aidan said.

"Shouldn't it be white, then?" Lacey asked, leaning over Ronan's arm to look.              

"Yer innocence is showing, love. Some of the best stuff is dark." said Aidan, before reaching out to take the vial from Ronan. After the slightest hesitation, Ronan gave it to him. Aidan turned the vial over in those long, gloved fingers, watching the grains trickle from side to side. "Tho' got to say, never seen any tha' looked like this."

"That's ‘cause it's no' dope, O'Neill. I think it’s a potion. The Changeling that handed it over said one thing—
ghrian siúlóir
."

"What's that?" Lacey asked, getting damn tired of feeling like the odd woman out.

"Sun walker." Aidan breathed, staring at the dark powder with something between desire and pain.