Smoke in Moonlight (Celtic Elementals Book 1) (19 page)

"He is, ye fool. The only reason he was that strong tonight is because you were after his woman. I've nae seen him like that. He was crazed."

"If only your stupid curse had worked properly that bastard would be on our side!"

"I have no power to change a man’s loyalties, brother dearest, as ye damme well have assured yerself of—many times. And he'll be out of yer way by the end of the night. Now, go ahead and start the preparations. I'll bring her along."

"You had better. Or Orthannach will be attending to you for the next millennium." Lacey saw Aine shudder and Aillen smile, his terrible, jagged teeth transforming the human face into one of a monster. Then he streaked off into the night.             

"Finally." Aine breathed, so softly Lacey wasn't sure it wasn't just her battered head making up voices. But then the Changeling holding her suddenly stiffened, like a marionette whose strings had been jerked. His arms released her and Lacey would have fallen to the ground if Aine hadn't moved to support her. The goddess snapped her fingers at the Changeling and he crumbled.

Aine was still supporting her. Lacey clung to her shoulders, weak but furious. "You!" She could only get out the one word and that was slurred.

"Save it, sister. There’s nae time! Ye must go get the sword, Lacey. Ronan wonna think he'll need it as he can transform this night. But he must have the sword or we'll all die."

Lacey stared at the goddess in a haze of befuddled agony. "Don't… understand?"

Aine cursed and pushed Lacey against a tree.

"Humans! Aillen plans to use your blood to break Ronan's curse."

Lacey's jaw fell open. "Can't break—"

"Oh yes. Most definitely
can
. No, I n'ver told them. Wasn't even aware of it myself until I listened to Mac and Bav having a little te'te about obscure sorcery a few years back. Light balances dark, love negates hate. I only had to adjust my thinking—there is a key for every lock, after all.” Lacey's forehead wrinkled in confusion and Aine sighed heavily. "There really is nae time, Lacey. Ye're in love with Ronan, aren't ye?"

Lacey blinked at her. Her throat felt as if it had just been squeezed shut. It was true. She had half-realized it back in the cave, when she had told Ronan to make love to her one last time. But she hadn’t told him. She had been too scared…too weak to go that far.

Her eyes burned. Oh god, the only thing she wanted right now was to know he was okay, to know he was safe. And Aine was offering her that. Nothing else mattered.

Aine smiled grimly. "That's what I thought. Yer blood
will
break my curse. And Aillen wants to break the curse so he can kill Ronan. Break while he is
faoladh
so he will become human without the
claíomh na gréine
in reach.

"Tha's all ye need to know for now. Get tha' damme sword of Lugh’s and bring it to Knockdoon," she raised her hand and pointed at the barely discernable sheen of starlight against the pale rock of a far off mountainside. "He'll have Changelings out tha' will find ye soon enough when ye get close. Now, just go."

Lacey held on to the tree, her knees as watery as half-formed Jell-O. "
Can't
..."

Aine bit her lip, before slowly lifting a hand. Light flew from her fingers and covered Lacey in a shower of silvery-cobalt sparks.

Instantly, Lacey was able to let go of the tree, her head finally clear of that sickening heaviness. Her limbs still felt a bit weak and shaky, but definitely better. She also somehow had her clothes on again, though they were wrinkled and damp. The smell of sulfur filled the air. Lacey inhaled deeply, trying to clear her mind and focus. She had to be strong,
had to
.

"Tha's all the healing I can spare. This is
my
weakest time, as well as Ronan's as
faoladh
, ye know. Though he can transform tonight, and he will. This is the in-between time, where strange things can happen to those in tune with lunar magic. Aillen had me send those dreams of the full moon to put Ronan off balance—and to cause ye both pain, of course. My cursed brother
relishes
pain, Lacey. Do nae forget tha'. If ye fail to return, Ronan will suffer more than ye can ever imagine.
As will I
. Though I can hardly expect ye to care about tha'. Now, go!"

Lacey ran. Trying her best to keep her feet, as everything that had happened, everything that Aine had said continued to make her head reel. And though the pain from her injuries was gone, a new emotion moved to take its’ place.

Fear.

Vicious and cold, it built within her as she ran through the dark, slapping into branches and falling to her knees more than once. She hardly noticed the minor injuries as the questions bombarded her. Would Ronan survive until she got there? Would he if she
did
get there?             

She fell again, tasting dirt and another familiar, bitter flavor as well. One she recognized all too well.

Despair.

Full moon or no, this
was
her dream. Her nightmare made real. Lacey forced herself to her feet, a sob tearing through her burning chest as she ran on through the night.

Ronan got to his feet, tasting blood in his mouth and wiping it from one eye. He was surprised to be alive. After being twice a fool, he certainly didn’t deserve to still be here. He left the cabin without the sword again. He should be
dead.

For a moment he just leaned against the cool stone of the cave and wondered if Lacey already was.

Ice filled his belly and blackness threatened to swallow him whole at the thought. He couldn't believe he had ever thought he would be capable of ending her.

She was his life, his light, his one hope of holding back the dark—and no matter what it cost he had to protect her. His family couldn't…they
wouldn’t
fault him for that. No matter what the cost. If there was one thing his family understood, it was love. And he knew he loved Lacey.

He almost said it to her. But he hadn't.

At least not in a language she could understand.

Ronan closed his eyes briefly. He had to face the fact he might never get that chance again. He forced back the fear that gripped him as he considered that possibility. And then a new fear raised its ugly head—
why
was he alive?

Aillen could have slit his throat where he lay. 'Course he might have recovered from that, given the moon was on the rise. But, hell, Aillen could have taken his damn
head
. Ronan knew goddamn well even
he
wasn't going to recover from that.

So—Aillen had something else in mind. Worse than death or maybe just a more painful one? Knowing how the demon's mind worked, Ronan was betting on both.

Something to do with Lacey.

That was right! Aillen had said Lacey was the
key,
something about her blood. Ronan's jaw snapped closed. That sounded like dark magic, and if they were going to do anything of that nature with Lacey—if she
were
alive—Aillen would have taken her to Knockdoon. Ronan didn't bother with his pile of clothes on the ground.

Rushing naked out the tomb entrance, Ronan's heart stilled as something else slithered into his mind. He hoped to Lugh that Lacey didn't somehow run into Aidan tonight. With what Aidan believed, he would kill her on sight.

But surely, there was no chance of that—not with her being in Aillen’s hands. The demon was hardly likely to let her go wandering off.

Ronan flowed out of the cave and into the night, transforming as soon as he entered the woods. Smoke billowed as his human form vanished. Huge and powerful, with strength that seemed to build at every bounding leap, the black wolf howled as it ran. Letting his enemies know he was coming for their throats... and their blood.

Aidan caught Lacey’s scent the moment she left the woods. He was leaning on the outside wall of Ronan's cabin, debating his next move.

His crystal eyes narrowed as they caught Lacey's running figure. His nostrils flared. It wasn't just her own sweet blood he smelled; the sharp tang of Aine's magic clung to her as well. Not to mention the faint elusive scent of Ronan.

And Ronan's blood.

Aidan wondered coldly if his friend was still alive. He hadn't sensed anything psychically, but then he didn't know for sure that he would.

He'd never lost a friend before.

Ronan had been the only creature on earth he could give that name to for a very, very long time.

Like a white-hot snake uncoiling, anger slid through his body.

Aidan pushed away from the cabin wall, stepping in front of the door just as Lacey reached it. She started and almost fell back at the sight of him. To his surprise, he detected no fear in her eyes at the sight of him, only what might have been relief.

She certainly was a fine actress.

"Aidan. Oh god, I forgot about you!" She was breathless and there were branches and leaves in her short reddish-gold hair. He could hear her heart racing and the delicious aroma flowing from all that rushing blood made his stomach and throat burn with hunger.

She almost looked like a lost child, sweet and innocent and scared—such a lovely, lost child. Aidan was impressed at the sympathy that she stirred in him.

Ronan hadn’t had a chance. She was damnably good at this.

"Oh thank god! Someone who can
really
help him—and they don't know you're here either, or do they? Oh, that’s good...surely having a vampire on our side can't hurt." Her words were jumbled and on the edge of hysterical. A nice touch, he thought.

She tried to move past him into the cabin, but Aidan stood firm. Lacey looked up at him angrily, her mouth opened to shout something...when her jaw went lax. Aidan knew his eyes were glowing and he wished they weren't. That he wasn't so starved.

She didn't deserve to go easy.

"But I'm nae on your side, am I, love?" Aidan spoke softly, almost regretfully, Lacey thought, as she struggled against a pervasive sleepiness that seeped over her like thick fog.

"Aidan...why?" Her lips felt numb and they trembled when he bared his fangs at her. But she was unable to back away even as her body screamed at her to run, to help Ronan.

"Where is he, Lacey? Have they already killed him?"

"I don't...know," she whispered.

Aidan hissed and grabbed her throat. "Then I really wish this was no' going to be so easy on ye."

Lacey shivered at the touch of the cold leather, trying to lift a hand to push him off, trying to tell him to let her go, that she had to get the goddamn sword again....

She was so sleepy, her limbs were too heavy and soft to move. Darkness was clouding the edges of her vision, but she could dimly see Aidan bending toward her, his mouth open, two wickedly curved fangs gleaming at her—

Lacey felt the sharp prick against her throat. Her eyes drifted closed, as Aidan sank his fangs into her jugular, despair pulling her into the darkness, where only one word echoed.

Ronan!

"Let her go, Aidan."

Lacey felt Aidan growl ferally in response to the low voice, but he didn't move until something hit him hard in the back, knocking them both against the cabin wall.

"Damme!" Aidan raised his mouth from her in fury. Lacey's knees buckled in relief as the darkness lifted, but since he still held her by the throat, she didn't fall. Choking and gasping, she grabbed his hand, trying to regain her feet. Aidan gave her a hard, impassive look, before turning his head. "Donna be twice a fool, Daire."

Then Lacey caught a glimpse of Daire leaning against the open door, hanging on to the knob, looking pale and disheveled. "I'm not," even his voice, usually so rich, sounded pale. "I'm not, O'Neill. Trust me."

Aidan snorted. "Aye, I'll do that. After all, ye've done so well in convincing me of yer fine sense of judgment in the past! She's as good as said she killed him...or helped it done."

Lacey shook her head violently, struggling to pry his fingers back, but she might have been trying to bend iron bars. "No..." she managed to gurgle out, finally getting purchase on the steps with her toes. "No, Daire!" Stronger this time.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "She sees some hope, so she lies. Go back to bed and lay down, Daire. You're not going to help anyone out here."

"Ye were right about Jane and I am sorry, Aidan. Damme sorry! But…ye're wrong about Lacey. I canna let ye do it. Ye'll have to kill me too." Daire put a shaky hand on Aidan's shoulder.

Aidan threw it off with an impatient jerk of his shoulders. "Oh, like hell I will, ye stupid eejit. I'll knock yer thick bloody head against the wall and then nobody will stop me from doing what needs to be done!"

"Donna count on tha', dearie," the soft words came from the path to the main house. Moiré was standing there, with Michael. Shelagh and the children were a few paces behind, their eyes wide.

"Moiré, donna." Aidan's voice got a strange sound to it and his grip on Lacey loosened. He was looked at the older woman with something akin to pain in his eyes.