“That’s the plan, anyway,” Aiyana said with a wince. “I swear I think he and I are playing chicken over it. Waiting to see which one is going to back out first.”
Skye smiled at that. “Well, I hope you both realize he’s gonna be buck-ass naked for a portion of this experience. If you’re hoping to win your little game of chicken, maybe point that out to him and tell him you’re bringing lights, a camera, and popcorn.”
Aiyana tossed her head back and laughed at the visual that brought to mind. The two spent the rest of their walk coming up with ways to torment Miko into rescinding Aiyana’s invitation.
9: Villains That Live in My Head
When Skye got back to the den she was emotionally wrung out. She was in no way prepared to find Drostan camped out at the front door waiting for her.
“Drostan…” she greeted suspiciously as he fell in beside her.
“Pup…” he greeted affectionately with a grin.
“What’s up?” she asked in a mock cheerful tone.
“Could ask ya tha very same question, sister. I’ve been informed your head’s in need of a wee exploration,” he answered.
Skye rolled her eyes. “Taran?”
“Taran,” Drostan answered at the same time, knowing the question was coming.
Skye grumbled under her breath and changed course, heading up to her bedroom so they would at least have some privacy for this. She was unsurprised and delighted to find Ciaran right where she left him – snoring and sprawled on the mattress with his cute, little, bare, Irish ass still up to the world.
Drostan snorted in amusement at the sight and held up his hand. “Permanent fixture in your bed, is tha?”
“Just about,” Skye laughed.
As this was a somewhat regular occurrence for them lately, she did not need to ask what to do. She sat down on the floor and held up her hands with practiced ease, then watched as Drostan sat in front of her and took her hands in his. They closed their eyes in unison.
Just relax, Drostan soothed in her mind.
Easier said than done, she answered wryly.
Show me your dreams and visions, he instructed.
Oh, yeah. That’ll be sooo fucking relaxing. Regular day at the spa up in here, she snarked.
Skye… he admonished, though she could easily sense his amusement.
Fiiinnneeee. Here, she grudgingly conceded. She opened the door to her memories of the nightmares and hallucinations and could sense him combing over them.
After a while, she felt him withdraw from them. He carefully closed things back up as tightly as they were when he arrived.
“Well… tha was horrible,” he declared in his typical dry way.
“You think?” she joked as they opened their eyes and let go of one another’s hands.
She was surprised to find Ciaran and Taran seated nearby watching them intently. Ciaran was showered, dressed, and holding a coffee mug. It was always difficult to gauge time when they did this. Her eyes went to the clock on the wall. What had felt like a matter of minutes had actually been two hours.
“Well?” Taran asked anxiously.
Drostan shook his head and studied Skye’s face sympathetically. He had no good news to deliver. “Aye, it’s in there. A darkness, just as Ciaran described it, but it’s lurking just out of view. I’ve tried my best to reach it, but it’s like chasing fog. Its retreat keeps pace with my approach. It always keeps its distance. Whatever it is, it’s intelligent. There is definitely an outside source doing this to her.”
Taran’s eyes rolled closed in dread at the confirmation. Ciaran’s brows drew together fretfully.
“Thanks, Drostan,” Skye said quietly. Sure, he had been the bearer of bad news, but she chose to be thankful anyway. It was an outside source. That meant she had not lost her grip. She decided to focus on that silver lining. If someone out there was driving her mad, that meant there was someone out there she could kill to keep herself sane.
Before they could travel to Scotland, Skye insisted on A) activating the sigils (to ensure the pack’s safety in her absence) and B) staying with Miko for at least his first transformation (because what kind of crappy Maker / friend would she be if she didn’t?) With those two items on the agenda, it meant there would be at least another two full nights before they could fly out. Skye hoped she could make it that long without incident…
She made herself comfortable on the rooftop at sunset. Down on the ground, the speakers were blaring music. The whole pack was outside drinking and horsing around. Kegs were tapped, and barbeques were smoking. They were giving all the appearances of a celebration for the nosy press beyond the gates.
But all of the noise was too distracting for Skye. She gratefully pulled on the pair of high-noise reduction earmuffs that Aiyana had brought for her. This spell required a state of trancelike meditation. It was different than the spells she was used to. Instead of releasing her fury, she was sharing – of all things – her love. And that meant something very special was happening tonight.
She smiled over at Ciaran when she felt his excited gaze upon her. This spell did not present any potential danger for him, so he was able to stay and watch her use her power. He was freaking giddy over it.
Taran and Ciaran sat a distance away as she closed her eyes and recalled Sorcha’s instructions. She focused on her love for her men and her pack, her loyalty to her friends, and her need to defend them from any and all threats. She pictured her love as a white light began rolling over her body, down her arms, into her hands…
“Now,” Taran said into his phone.
Ciaran was so enthralled by the sight of the power Skye was about to release, he barely noticed the fireworks that started detonating overhead at Taran’s command. Ciaran fought back the instinctive urge to go to Skye, to touch that light and bask in its radiance. His entire body thrummed with the desire to do so.
Skye placed her hands on the first carved rune in the chain and exhaled. Her power raced outward in a flash. Each rune it touched lit up like a beacon – one by one around the perimeter until all were activated. An orb of light flickered into view, encompassing the entire compound for several seconds. The ground shook slightly as the spell settled into place.
A smile came to Skye’s lips as she added something special to the mix. Per her suggestion, the spell at this location would also carry a warding effect. Anyone who was not pure in their loyalty to Skye and the clan, along with anyone who harbored bad intentions, would be unable to cross the threshold. They would become confused and disoriented and have no choice but to leave. Skye was proud of herself for this addition – for coming up with it and crafting it with Sorcha, and for putting it in place with relative ease.
She opened her eyes and found the runes gradually losing their glow. The power was in place. The sigils would only light up again in the case of an intruder.
She removed her earmuffs and immediately yawned. That was enough for Taran. He picked her up without a word and promptly carried her directly to bed.
“There was something… Wasn’t I supposed to do something else tonight?” she asked drowsily.
“Rest,” Taran urged as he let her hair down and shook it out.
“But… am I forgetting something?” she pressed. Her brain was seeking any way to postpone the inevitable, desperately needed sleep.
“No,” Taran declared resolutely as he undressed her. “Ya are to curl up in this bed and nah leave it again until it’s time for us to fly out.”
“I have to be with Miko tomorrow night, though,” she insisted.
Taran sighed. “Very well. Ya can be with him for the start and the end. But for the rest of the night, ya are to be back here.”
“But –” she tried, but Taran cut her off with an abrupt kiss.
“But nothing!” he snapped in an uncharacteristically loud voice when he pulled away. He looked into her eyes intensely and she could see it there – the desperate fear in him for her safety.
She piped down in respons
e.
His features quickly softened and grew remorseful that he had allowed his frustration and concern to present as anger. He shook his head and sighed as he brought his hands to her cheeks lovingly. “Ya are positively exhausted, wee one,” he continued in a quiet, gentle tone. “And we do nah know what ya are up against. Ya need your strength. Seeing to it tha ya rest is all I can do for now to help ya. If the nightmares make it too difficult to sleep, ya can always find something else to distract yourself. Eat. Watch one of your movies. Allow us to give ya pleasure. Anything ya wish – but ya will be doing it all from this bed…”
‘…where ya are most likely to be safe,’ went unsaid, but it was implied.
Skye passed out shortly after that conversation. She barely moved a muscle for the majority of the night. She had vague recollections of opening her eyes a few times to find herself in various positions between Taran and Ciaran, snuggling into their arms and soaking up the sense of security she found there.
When she opened her eyes and found soft morning sunlight filtering into the room, she smiled. It had been her first full night’s sleep in weeks. She felt Ciaran stir behind her, but Taran was apparently already up and gone to start the day.
“Mmm… Mornin’, love. Sleep well?” Ciaran asked sweetly behind her ear.
Skye grinned. “You know what? I actually did.”
Ciaran purred in approval and swiftly rolled her over onto her stomach. Skye laughed as he moved his body over hers, grinding against her ass and kissing the side of her neck.
“Thank the heavens… Means I can shag ya senseless,” he teased.
Skye closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm mouth and hands wandering over her body. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she was relaxed and comfortable. Slow morning sex with Ciaran sounded like the perfect addition to an already-awesome start to her day.
“Ow! What the fuck?” she griped suddenly in pained surprise when Ciaran bit her neck hard enough to break the skin.
She reached up and felt the wound, scowling at the blood she found on her fingertips. She fought to keep her outrage in check. Ciaran never pulled shit like this. He knew enough about her past. I mean sure, they nipped at one another plenty during sex, but never like this.
“That was a little too fucking hard, don’t you think?” she asked angrily.
Ciaran laughed in reply behind her, but he said nothing.
Skye’s brows drew together. The morning sunlight suddenly seemed far less warm and inviting. The entire scene began to take on a cold feel. A growing sense of dread washed over her as she felt that even Ciaran’s body had grown unnaturally cold. She went rigid and terror rose as she realized… she hadn’t looked at Ciaran since waking up…
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Tha’s nah my name…” a horrifically familiar voice said in a sing-song manner just behind her ear.
Skye whimpered in fright as she whispered, “Brandubh?”
He brought his mouth to her ear, nuzzling it as he purred, “Mmm... say it again for me, pet. Lower this time.”
At those familiar words – the very same he said over the phone before the SUV crash – Skye sobbed. She instantly switched into survival mode. She managed to catch him by surprise and buck him off of her before scrambling off the mattress. In a fluid motion, she broke the bedside table in passing and snatched up two of its legs. With a makeshift stake firmly gripped in each hand, she spun to face her attacker.
“Easy, Skye,” he said as he held up his hands.
Skye staggered slightly in confusion when she saw him, but she kept her guard up. Brandubh looked like… well, like Ciaran.
But he would, wouldn’t he?
Wait – would he look this much like Ciaran?
She squinted and shook her head, trying to clear her muddled thoughts as she struggled to understand what she was seeing. She fought back a wave of uncertainty as she studied his features.
God, he looked just like Ciaran.
Wait, was it Ciaran?
Oh God, had she somehow betrayed Ciaran’s secret by mistake and caused Brandubh to discover him? Was Brandubh speaking to her through Ciaran, as he did with the fògaraich sometimes? Had he found a way to do that?
No, she refused to believe it. Ciaran was strong. He would sense someone in his mind trying to control him.
Right?
So, was Brandubh just making her see Ciaran in his place?
Was this another nightmare?
Even as she watched, his appearance began to shift. His features changed and grew slightly sharper. He was wearing a tailored-to-perfection black suit now… but hadn’t Ciaran been nude? His eyes swirled with that telltale inky blackness, choking out the whites of his eyes and the familiar crystal blue until all that remained was cruel obsidian. He opened his mouth to speak and his razor-sharp fangs were revealed.
“Come to me,” Brandubh instructed and extended his hand.
Skye was horrified to feel her feet instinctively start to shuffle toward him in response. She shook her head and locked her knees. She wept pitifully that she even had to fight this – that a decade of brutalization had rendered her so well-trained.
“There’s no need to fight it. We both know ya want to,” Brandubh soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted it expectantly. “Come, lay your head down, child.” His terribly handsome face presented the devil’s smile – sweet and inviting, shaded only by the predatory gleam in his eyes.
Skye’s lips quivered in terror that she actually wanted to listen to him. Something about the idea of surrendering her will, submitting to him completely, seemed like it would deliver an incredible relief. She did not know if that was a part of a spell, or – far more frightening – her own desire.
“Things can go back to the way they were,” Brandubh offered in a satin tone. “Even better than before, as ya will be mine this time. Precious. Sacred. Protected at all costs. No one else will ever dare touch or look upon ya again, I swear it. Ya will stay with me – safe and sheltered from this dreadful world.”
Skye knew he could see her tears, smell her fear, and hear her thundering heart. She only prayed that he was unable to sense the deep impact his words were having on her resolve.
“Remember how it was before all of this confusing freedom?” he pressed gently. “Things were so much simpler. No wars to fight. No choices to make. No one to protect. No one to stay sane for.” He tilted his head in feigned sympathy as he stood again. “Because it’s so hard, isn’t it?” he asked with a deep frown, slowly crossing the room toward her. “So terribly hard pretending to be okay for them day after day. With me, ya shall ne’er have to hide. No secrets. Ya will bleed for me. I will bleed for ya. There will be delicious pain again… and, oh, such exquisite pleasure…” He smiled dangerously and waited for her to meet his gaze as he whispered knowingly, “And ya do remember the pleasure.”
Skye cried harder at the awful truth of his words. She fought to stay standing as her knees threatened to buckle.
Brandubh nodded. “Hush now. I know, child. Ya do nah want to admit the parts ya liked. The parts ya still secretly crave at times. The depraved things these lesser beings can nah provide for ya. I can give them all to ya again. Leave ya blessedly sated. Any time ya wish… As often as ya wish… I shall be at your bidding.”
Skye winced and fought to repress the vivid memories that resurfaced against her will in response to his seductive words. Her mind replayed each graphic scenario with Brandubh in place of her former captors.
“Please…” she whispered pitifully, “…stop.”
“Empty words, pet. I can sense the longing in ya,” Brandubh whispered back. “Ya pretend it was all bad for their benefit – these beasts ya lay with. It makes it easier tha way, doesn’t it? For them to digest your past? ‘A decade of torture and abuse’ as the tale goes. But it was nah always so simple, was it? All tha time… All those years… All your handlers… All the different ways ya were taught to play and touch
and taste…” His smile turned positively wicked. He brought a finger to his lips before winking at her. “Shhh… I know, pet. I know without ya having to speak a word. Just as ya know without a doubt these beasts would judge ya if they learned the truth. They would recoil from your touch. Look upon ya in disgust. See ya as some sad, broken thing. They would abandon ya if they ever found out just how truly damaged ya are.”
Skye finally sank to her knees at that. One of the stakes fell from her hand and clattered noisily across the floor. Her body quaked with silent sobs as she covered her mouth. He was putting words to her deepest, darkest, most heavily-guarded fears and truths.
Brandubh came to kneel in front of her. She was too far gone to fight when he put his hand under her chin and urged her to lift her head. His black eyes studied her intensely as he went on.
“These mutts here? They would nah see the strength it took to endure what ya did. The strength it took to survive it all. They can nah understand ya like I do. They do nah love ya the way I do,” he whispered as he cradled her face in his hands. “Come away with me, child. We will leave now – no need to explain why. Ya will ne’er again have to think of this place. I will tell ya what to think and how to feel and what to do. Ya can finally rest. Finally surrender. Come. I shall set ya free…”
He took her hand in his and guided her to stand and it was all too much. Too much of what she feared a dark, broken part of her mind secretly yearned for. It was almost enough to break her.
Almost.
“NO!” she shouted furiously and brought the stake up into his heart.
She blinked in confusion as she stared at the stake.
The blood on her hand…
It was so hot.
Why was it hot?
The sound of his labored, wet gasps was what finally broke the hallucination’s hold. She looked up into Ciaran’s wide, stunned, blue eyes and it all came crashing down.
Goddess Rising Page 13
