The Moon Shines Red (Heart of Darkness Book 1)
Page 6
Searly stood, and got as close to Lochlan as he could, keeping that oh-so-important distance. “This right here,” he said, “is how it has to be. People can only get so close to you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to pat you on the back. Yet, I cannot. And I would love to shake your hand sometime. I get angry every time I have to stop myself.” Searly sighed. “I saw the way you looked at her across the table. You didn’t want to pat her on the back or shake her hand, you wanted to be the one to hold it. Maybe even hold her?”
Lochlan closed his eyes and turned away, not wanting Searly to see how it pained him for him to be so bloody observant.
“Astra sonus,” Searly said quietly.
Lochlan huffed. “What does that mean?”
“The stars make no sound, yet they are beautiful. They are noticed and admired and shine above us all. And they do not have to speak to be seen. You are like a star, milord. Your loyalty and compassion is beautiful, noticed, and admired. You do not have to touch to feel. And I am quite certain there will come a time when sweet lady Elin will look upon you in such a way that it will set your soul to rights, and you will shine above us all.”
Searly took one step forward, only one, fighting the urge to hug Lochlan the way he’d always wanted to, like a brother. Lochlan had always known that. With his hands at his sides, Searly said, “Get some rest, milord. Perhaps tonight you may consider bringing a blanket when you sleep outside her door. Yes?”
Lochlan chuckled and shook his head. “I am protecting her. That is all.”
Searly turned his back to him, blowing out a candle on his way out the door. “Of course, milord. Of course.”
I ran from the refectory like a frightened child, holding up my skirts so as not to trip, passing monks along the way, each one giving me a furtive glance. I raced down one corridor and then another. The sound of my boots slapping stone was all I heard as I darted left, then right, then left again, each hallway the same as the other. Winding mazes of dimly lit passages.
When I reached the end of yet another hallway, I stopped and took a breath. It was then I decided I didn’t want to run anymore. I didn’t even know what I was running from, only that I had to flee. I wanted to outrun my despair, leave it behind somewhere and…
I slapped my palm against the cold stone wall, leaned into the coolness it provided, and breathed. The air was redolent of tallow and beeswax and I allowed my lungs to get their fill, trying to quiet my restless mind. My bones ached and my dress felt constricting and tight against my ribs, punctuating the ache I wanted to bury.
Standing up straight, I turned around. I realized I had no idea where inside the monastery I was. Never had I lived in a place where I could get lost. It made me yearn for the comfort of my home. Feeling defeated, I wanted to call out for help, but no one was about. In fact, the night had gone quiet. Unnaturally still. An unsettling feeling tickled my senses…like something had shifted, moved…rearranged.
That’s silly. I shook my head. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. I am safe.
Smoothing out my dress, I took a few tentative steps forward and stopped when I heard something.
Whistling.
It was faint. A lazy tune, casual, like someone was out for an evening stroll. Yet something was off about it. Something ominous. Haunting.
I moved with quicker strides in the opposite direction from the scent of evil that blanketed the air. Reaching the end of another hallway, I turned right.
The whistling grew louder. My heart pounding painfully inside my chest, I glanced over my shoulder, seeing no one, yet feeling followed. Panic blackened the edges of my sight when the path I’d chosen ended abruptly.
No…no…no! Fist to the wall, I shouted, “Damnation!”
The casual, disembodied whistling grew closer. I spun around and pressed my back to the stone, keeping my eyes wide and alert. The sickly yellow light from the sconces cast shadows that seemed to slither and lurch to and fro.
“Who’s there?” I whimpered.
The whistling stopped.
I clutched a hand to my breast, fear cresting over me like a violent wave.
Then… all the sconces blew out at once.
Lochlan clutched a goblet of ale in his hand and stared out at the inky night from the library window. The gibbous moon glowed crudely overhead, like a seductive mistress. God, how he hated the moon and the way she leered at him.
He looked away and stared down into his ale. He was not accustomed to worriment, yet he found himself battling a disquieting vexation. A niggling feeling crawled under his skin and burrowed into his psyche. He polished off his drink like he was angry at the apple tasting liquid, sneering as it slid down his throat. He realized he was being irrational but so what? Every feeling he’d had as of late had been irrational.
He tried to dampen his frustrations by staring at the familiar outlines of his library. His library. That’s how he always thought of it. His story lived within these walls and he guarded it well. It had been his refuge. He liked the smell of the room, the lighting. And ever since Elin had started showing up he found he liked it even more, because her sweet smelling scent lingered here.
He breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring, and nearly tasted her essence. Saints in Heaven, he had to stop thinking of her like that.
He brushed past the rows and rows of books and settled into an old leather chair, smoothing his hands over the arms while staring at nothing in particular. After a while, he let his head fall back into the chair and closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he truly rested. He’d been coiled tight for so long that his muscles were knotted ropes twisted in every direction. How he would love nothing more than to be able to relax under the silvery ribbons of the waterfall. Just thinking about the cool water running over his skin made him shiver. He tried to imagine himself there as he sunk lower into the warmth of the leather. He could be there in a blink if he wanted. It would take no effort at all.
Something crashed into the window and Lochlan sat up with a start, blinking rapidly, his heart pounding, pulse racing. A white owl dramatically beat its wings about on the window pane.
What the bloody hell? Lochlan thought before feeling wrongness in the air.
Then a scream.
Elin!
He lunged forward, disappearing in a spectacle of shimmering orbs. By her scent alone he could track her, but it was her fear that hooked into his soul, bringing him forth, guiding him, until he materialized in a hallway that had gone completely dark.
With a wave of his hand, the sconces flared like torches, the pitch of darkness now aglow with shades of gold. He saw her at the end of the corridor, her hands alight in a soft blue glow. Her fingertips rubbed her temples and her lips moved frantically.
He was in front of her in a blink. “Elin,” he said at once, “it is I. What…what are you doing?” Instinctively, his trembling hand moved to touch her shoulder, then he pulled it back, his bruised heart cracking with the harsh reality that he could not do what his soul insisted. He coiled his hand into a fist, bringing it to his mouth where he bit down on his knuckles in absolute frustration. Breathing in deeply, he tried once more to issue calm because she was clearly panicked. In a low voice, he said, “I am here now. I am here.”
Elin lifted her head timidly and opened her eyes, her gray eyes wide with terror. She shook and trembled like an abused animal when she noticed her hands all aglow.
“L-lord?” Her voice was but a whisper.
“It is I,” he confirmed again. He held her eyes with his, keeping her vision trained on him as he spoke to her mind. Look at me, Elin. First, tell me you’re okay. Are you hurt?” Her eyes widened, confused his lips weren’t moving. Her eyebrows drew close as she studied them. That only made him want to keep going…to keep talking. Tell me you’re okay. Please.
She kept her eyes focused on his mouth and then they slowly traveled up to meet his mint-pearl eyes. She blinked once, then twice. “I – I am not hurt.”
“I…” She stared at her hands. “I don’t rightly know.”
Slow clapping sounded behind him and Lochlan spun on his heels, standing to full height.
“What have we here? Hmm?” the thing said, rubbing its chin.
A cry broke from Elin’s lips and Lochlan waved his hand over her, encasing her within a see-through protective shield while never taking his eyes off the creature that was at least smart enough to keep its distance.
Lochlan observed the intruder that stood tall with translucent skin, long white hair, eyes clear like water, with dark masculine eyebrows, wearing all white, and a thistle crown perched upon its head.
The flames from the sconces hissed and crackled when Lochlan’s rage began to bubble underneath his lithe frame, now realizing what had frightened Elin. This thing was a Fae. Unseelie to be certain. And evil. It was a mockery it had chosen to dress in crisp white. Lochlan almost laughed at the absurdity of it as he stood clothed in all black. If one were to judge good and evil based on appearances alone, they would likely reach the wrong conclusion. It would be foolish. Even detrimental.
Lochlan sneered, calling forth his wings, unfurling them in a majestic way, expanding them fully, each wing the length and height of a grown man. “How did you get past the wards?”
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the Fae answered with a smirk, choosing to ignore the question. I am Zeph.” The Fae bowed like he had bestowed an honor upon Lochlan. “And you are?”
“Going to kill you.” Anger coated every cell in Lochlan’s being, madness pressing upon his sternum.
“Such hostility,” the Fae said with a devil-may-care grin.
“You made a mistake in coming here. Do you have a death wish? If so I am all too eager to grant it.”
“Come now. We needn’t be enemies.”
Lochlan steeled his spine, wanting to unleash the full brunt of his powers, but getting answers trumped that impelling need. “What do you want?”
“I had to see for myself.”
“See what?”
“If it was true.” The Fae clasped his hands behind his back and took a rather easy pose, not fearful in the least that Lochlan could kill him without breaking a sweat. “We were under the impression you were dead. You are the half-breed, are you not? The spawn of human and Fae? The abomination of both realms?”
Lochlan’s skin began to itch with the desire to rip this Unseelie’s head off. “Is that why you’re here? Because of me?”
“No, actually it isn’t. It is a bonus, though. However, my primary interest is with the girl.”
“Fae are not supposed to do harm to humans. Even you,” Lochlan snarled. “What do you want with her?”
The Fae smiled nefariously, revealing fangs that distended white and sharp against his lips. “She took something from me. I have come to exact my revenge.”
“Took what from you?”
“Why do you care? Hmm? Let me have her and you’ll be…” He waved his hand dismissively, “forgotten. We’ll pretend you do not exist. You can continue to hide out in this monastery. Unless…” Zeph said with amusement, “you care for the girl.” He laughed at his own words. “Oh, that would be priceless if true.”
Ignoring his snide comment, Lochlan volleyed, “If you want her, you’ll have to go through me to get her. How bad do you want her? Enough to end your life? Because I will end it. After, I can continue living as I always have in this monastery,” Lochlan hissed.
The Fae curled his lip, hate dripping from his mouth like venom. “I am pure Fae, half-breed. You are not as powerful as I.”
“Ah, I don’t need to be, do I? Thanks to the curse I merely have to touch you and you cease to be.”
The Fae narrowed his eyes, knowing Lochlan was right. Maybe the curse had its advantages.
The ground began to rumble, bits of stone falling from the ceiling. The Fae’s image flickered and faded in and out, and then he glared at Elin. “You will pay for your bag of tricks, girl.” Hatred and contempt dripped off each word.
Lochlan studied the vile creature before him, realization dawning on him. “You’re not really here, are you? Not in the flesh.” Lochlan tilted his head toward the falling debris, confused by the sudden shift of the Earth. Wasting not another second, he flew at the Fae, hands out in front of him, ready to kill or prove his theory. Lochlan’s hands went right through him, like a ghost.
Zeph laughed. “I am not a fool. I do not take unnecessary risks. It was fun seeing the look on your face, however. Keep one eye open, half-breed. This isn’t over.”
Lochlan landed on his feet with refined grace and looked upon his enemy in boredom, done with this Fae’s taunts. “I’m all aflutter. I simply cannot wait.”
“Well then,” the Fae growled, his words swelling with outrage, “I’ll try not to keep you waiting. When I am done with you…” he pointed to Elin with a gnarled finger, “I am coming for her.”
Lochlan turned his eyes toward her. Fear was rife within her, evident by the way she still trembled, but something within her had given rise. Something that gave her…power.
If the Fae had been truly present, Lochlan would have already killed him. He gathered his wits about him and returned his focus to his enemy. He inclined his head just so and said, “Your plan better include an army. Because that’s what it will take to make this fanciful dream of yours come true.”
“Mock me all you want,” Zeph retorted with a scowl, his clear eyes turning the color of mud. “But we shall see about that.”
Lochlan emanated a deep, husky growl that rumbled like thunder. “We certainly shall.”
Zeph chortled, but there was weariness that flashed behind his cruel eyes. Then he simply faded out, whistling a dilatory tune that lingered with a sinister taunt.
“Are you all right?”
Lochlan had asked Elin that question several times already and each time she had told him she was fine. Yet he saw her struggling with uncertainty with everything she’d witnessed. After the Fae had disappeared, he’d asked her if she was all right to walk on her own, wishing he could carry her instead. She had stood and simply nodded. He’d walked her back, staying close, yet keeping his distance. Always keeping his distance. Now he was asking again, because he needed to be sure.
“Elin,” he whispered.
He was in her room, alone with her, behind a closed door. It felt a bit too intimate, and yet he’d never felt further away from anyone than he did with her in that moment. He sat on the floor, back against the door, watching her. He stared at her hands mostly, recalling how they had glowed, and he knew he needed to tell her, or rather get her to admit what she had to already know deep inside herself. It all made sense to him now. Why he had been drawn to her. Why he had felt the things he’d felt whenever he was around her. Why he couldn’t leave her alone, especially now. Once he got her to admit it, she would need him, and no one had ever needed him before. Something unique and unfamiliar blossomed inside his chest with that knowledge and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“Elin,” he whispered again.
“I’m fine,” she responded. “Could you please…” she trailed off, blinking back the tears she tried to hide.
“Could I please what?”
She turned her face away from his. “Could you please stop looking at me like that?”
His voice was low and soft when he asked, “How am I looking at you?”
“Like you don’t know what to think of me. Like I’m…like something is wrong with me.”
He allowed himself a moment before responding, a million thoughts barreling through his mind. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, however, the sooner she accepted the truth, the better off she would be. Her life depended on it.
“The truth is...” he said, “I don’t know what to think of you.”
She
laughed bitterly. “That makes two of us.”
“That does not mean I think there is something wrong with you. On the contrary, I think…” He blew out a breath, sounding tired and worn. “I think there is more to you than meets the eye. I have thought that for a while to be honest. Tonight only validated that feeling.”
She stood from her bed and crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. Her long brown hair flowed down her back and he longed to touch it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. He closed his eyes and scolded himself for even thinking such. Christ in Heaven, she made him want things he had no business wanting.
Folding her arms across her chest, she watched the leaves bristle in the wind underneath the midnight moon. “I’ve never felt normal,” she said. “Never. I suppose the easy answer is because I’m not.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye.
He stood and took a step toward her, and then one more. His hand reached out, the urge to touch her overwhelming, but he drew it back, making a fist as he closed his eyes. “I can empathize,” he said, pained.
He could hear tenderness in her voice when she said, “Yes, I suppose you could.”
“We should talk about tonight,” he hedged. The night was slipping away and by morning things needed to be clearer. For both of them. When she said nothing, he prompted again, “The problem will not simply go away, Elin. You cannot hide from this.”
“He said I took something from him and he wants it back,” she said, still staring out the window. “I don’t know what he is talking about. I promise. I do not know.”
“Elin…”
She spun around on him, anger flashing in her eyes. “No! I don’t know anything about Faes and magic and demons. I don’t know why my parents were attacked or why I am being hunted. I DO NOT KNOW!”
The floor beneath their feet trembled again, settling just as quickly.
“Your hands were glowing when I found you,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes and turned her head, not wanting to be reminded. “And they are glowing now, Elin.”