The Moon Shines Red (Heart of Darkness Book 1)

by Pamela Sparkman

  A tear slipped down my cheek and I had to bite my lip to keep it from trembling.

  His breath feathered across my lips and everything in me wanted to go limp, but I made myself stand perfectly still. “I would lean in…like this…and…” He trailed off, still feeling his breath, “I would taste you.” I moaned. “I know without a doubt your lips would be sweet, like honeysuckle.”

  An unbidden sob escaped my mouth. I couldn’t help it. I closed my eyes and a stream of tears fell down my face. I was falling for him and the idea of never being able to touch him tore my heart out.

  “Elin,” he said in a hushed voice. “Acushla.”

  I opened my eyes and saw so much pain and sadness beneath the unnatural mint-pearl eyes of his. Then I saw something sparkle within them. He kept his hands framing my face as he looked down at me. “You do not know it, but this moment is the most precious I’ve ever had. The idea of you wanting me is more than I ever thought possible. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. I cherish this. I cherish you, more than you know.”

  I marveled at the tone of his voice, like a song swaying on a breeze brushing past my ears. How sad that the world had missed out on this magnificent creature. His voice alone could ease the brashness in us all… like a balm. I was sure of it. However, his true power was in the way he could sweep me off my feet just by speaking my name. There was danger in that. True and utter danger, because he was cursed, and I was not immune. We could never be together. Thus the danger, because a part of me might stop caring that falling in love with him could bring both our worlds crashing down.

  Once and for all.

  He took a step back, carefully bringing his hands back to his sides. The anguish on his face was torture to my soul. It was then I made a decision.

  I took a steadying breath, needing to gain control over my quivering heart. Once I felt I could speak again, I said, “I am going to kill Zeph. Then I am going to find a cure for this curse.”

  He smiled, though it was sad. “It has been five hundred years, acushla. There is no cure for me.”

  Looking him in the eyes, I said, “Do not underestimate me, Lochlan, for I will find a cure. And you will owe me that kiss.”

  With new determination, I turned to walk back to the manor. “If it is the last thing I do.”

  He watched her retreating form and when Elin was safely tucked inside the manor, Lochlan returned to his seat on the felled tree, stared into the fire, and tried his best to tamp down the buildup of emotions that flooded him. She was going to be disappointed. There was no cure. Five lifetimes had already passed him by and if there was a cure for his curse he would have already found it.

  Or Searly would have. He had dedicated his life to finding a cure long after Lochlan had given up.

  Eyeing the ground around his feet, he felt the urge to throw something. He couldn’t help chuckling to himself recalling how Elin had done exactly that.

  He bent over, picked up a stone, and held it in his hands, turning it over, again and again, his mind drifting to the question Elin had asked him earlier. Why he did not live in the home that belonged to his father?

  It was easy enough to answer, though he’d not wanted to tell her. The truth was too painful to voice.

  “Father! I didn’t mean it! Please…don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I didn’t m-mean it.”

  He dropped to his knees and looked heavenward, weeping and wailing. A black hole carved itself into his chest, his heart entombed in total darkness.

  How would he go on? How would he ever go on?

  He fell forward, his forehead smashing the earth beneath him, his hands grinding fistfuls of wet soil. He howled into the night, his screams smothered by the clap of thunder and torrential rain that pummeled his grieving body.

  “Kill me!” he shouted. “I do not want to live this life.”

  For hours he cried, begged, and screamed. For hours the rain beat his body. For hours he wished for God to take him.

  Like he’d just taken his father’s life.

  “Kill me,” he whimpered. “Kill me.”

  He stood and glared up to the wicked moon. “I hate you,” he hissed. “Release me from this life…from this curse.” The moon did not comply, because it was just a moon. He closed his eyes, grasping at the tendrils of sanity that threatened to unravel.

  “Lochlan?” said a soft voice.

  He spun on his heels and found himself staring into beautiful gray eyes that sparkled from the light of the fire. He had not heard her footsteps, and he wondered if he had been too preoccupied, or if she was getting better at using her powers to travel.

  “I did not hear you.”

  “I came back.”

  His heart swelled. “Why?”

  She shook her head. “Because, I felt like you needed me. Did you? Need me?”

  All he could do was look at her, wondering why it took so long for her to come into his life. “Yes,” he said. “I think I always have.”

  They stared up while the night wrapped around them like a blanket. Again, things were said between them, even though no words were spoken. Sometimes the whispers of the heart spoke louder than the deepest voice.

  Her heart said….I am here now and I will find a cure.

  His said…I hope you do.

  And you will owe me that kiss.

  The anvil inside his chest had said… More than that. I will owe you my life.

  They both knew that would have to come later, because first he needed to save hers.

  “Come, acushla,” he said. “Let us get some rest. It has been a long day.”

  He put out the fire and they walked up the path to the manor, two lonely souls, each fighting demons of their past, both trying to save the other.

  Later, lying in his bed, he told his ghosts to go away and allow him to dream of the girl across the hall. For the first time he could remember, the ghosts obeyed, for he spent the rest of the night dreaming of Elin.

  In his dreams, he kissed her.

  Searly drummed his fingers on the old worn table in the library where stacks of books were piled in front of him, some open to the pages he’d been studying. There was something he wasn’t seeing, something about the curse that he was missing.

  But what?

  Frustrated, he ran his hands over his face, stood from the wooden chair, and stretched his back. He’d been sitting there for hours and his muscles had grown stiff.

  “Up all night again, brother?”

  Searly glanced around and spotted his friend Thaddeus standing at the entrance of the library. He was a young monk, the youngest of their order. He had taken his vows only a year before, devout in his calling, and Searly was quite fond of the young lad. He was studious, always striving to learn, and seemed to be a bit of a mother hen.

  Searly gestured for him to come in. “Aye. I believe I am getting closer to unlocking the key to the lord’s curse.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “I feel like I have been staring at the answer all this time. I just cannot put my finger on it.”

  Thaddeus entered the library and pointed to the books sprawled across the table. “Mind if I have a look? Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

  Searly genuinely appreciated the offer. Perhaps fresh eyes would be a benefit. “Of course you may. I never thought to ask for your help before.”

  Thaddeus chuffed. “You and Lord Lochlan aren’t so different, you know. You both think the world rests on your shoulders. And yet we are brothers, with the same calling. It would be my honor to assist.”

  Searly stared into Thaddeus’s open expression and chuckled under his breath. He was right. “Touché. My apologies. Please, I would appreciate any help you can offer.”

  “I’ll be happy to help. Let us start by telling me what you know for certain.”

  Searly scratched at his chin and filled him in on the history of Fae and man, what led to the curse, how Lochlan’s mother had died during childbirth, and explained how his father had tucked him away as a babe with Searly
’s ancestral family. Thaddeus took notes while Searly spoke.

  “Your family cared for him as a child?”

  “Aye.” Searly saw no reason to keep that information from his brother monk. Some of the other monks knew about it, but they had taken a vow of silence so those who knew didn’t speak of it.

  “Interesting,” Thaddeus said.

  “What is?”

  Thaddeus put down his writing instrument. “I was wondering…” He tapped the table, thinking, “…what relationship did your family have to Lord Lochlan’s parents? I mean, why your family?”

  Searly paced to the window and stared out over the garden below, his hands behind his back. “The king and some of my male relatives were friends during that time. I do not know how the friendship developed precisely, but from what has been passed down to me is that the king often sought out one of my ancestors for guidance.”

  “Guidance?”

  Searly shrugged. “It is said an uncle of mine, a great, great, great…” he waved a hand, “…however many greats, was a mystic. Some even say he was an oracle. The king would call on him for readings, relied on his ability to help him know what was coming so he could better prepare to lead his people. My uncle must have proven his worthiness because the king trusted my family to care for his cursed child in the end.”

  “Thaddeus nodded and again said, “Interesting.”

  Searly turned to him while still maintaining his place at the window. “Why do you keep saying that?”

  The young monk’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m drawing on a theory. Let me think on it more before I say.”

  Searly nodded. “Very well. Any ideas are welcome.”

  For hours, the two men hunched over old volumes of books until neither could see straight. Searly closed his book with a thud and leaned back. “What are we missing?”

  “I’m not sure, but there is something that isn’t there.” A few minutes passed before Thaddeus also leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you get out of here for a while, eh? I will stay and mull this over. You go rest or enjoy the rest of your day. You cannot possibly be thinking clearly anyway.”

  Searly groaned and stood from the table, stretching out his back. “Aye. Perhaps you are right.” He thought about visiting the manor, see how things were going. Thinking about how nice that would be, he said, “I think I will go visit my friends. Why don’t you do the same? Get out of here. Go rest your eyes as well.”

  Thaddeus had already dived back into reading and only glanced up for a second, long enough to meet Searly’s face, and then was back to the book. “No, no. I told you, I am working on a theory. I have more to read. You go. I am fine here.”

  Searly stepped around the table and patted his friend, his brother, on the back. “All right. Thank you. I shall return soon.”

  “Yes, yes,” the monk mumbled, waving Searly off.

  Searly asked, realizing how long they had actually been at it, “Have you eaten anything today?”

  Thaddeus didn’t bother to look up, lost in whatever ideas or notions he was tossing about in his head.

  “Fine. I shall go and fetch a bride and bring her back. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds good,” Thaddeus said, scribing another note.

  “And I shall pillage the village. Shall I bring you back anything? A goat perhaps?”

  Still making notes and studying the history scribed by past monks, Thaddeus answered, “Excellent, yes. That would be great.”

  Searly shook his head and laughed. “Very well. Do try to stay out of trouble while I am gone.”

  “Searly?” Thaddeus said before Searly had made it out the door.

  “Yes?”

  “You took a vow of celibacy and pillaging is a mortal sin. I trust you to stay out of trouble. Yes?” Thaddeus’s grin was like that of a child.

  “So you were listening.”

  “Always, brother. Always.” He turned back to the table of books and continued his studies.

  “I would appreciate it if you’d not singe my hair.”

  Searly had made the short journey to the manor and when he had heard Lochlan and Elin parrying on the back garden, he had to stop and watch, ducking along the side of the manor, hoping not to distract. He was quickly enthralled observing the two of them try to outmaneuver the other.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll just turn you into a block of ice,” Elin said. “You won’t feel a thing.”

  Searly leaned against the side of the stone wall and folded his arms. Enthralling indeed.

  “That is your solution? Turn me into ice? No. Control, acushla. Control. You must learn it.”

  Searly raised an eyebrow at the term of endearment, his lip curling into a happy grin.

  “You have had a few hundred years to learn control. I have only had a few weeks. I am trying.”

  “Try harder. We haven’t much–”

  “Time. I know,” Elin interrupted, thrusting her arms in the air. “You make me nervous. Why must you hover?”

  “I am not hovering. I am not even near you.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “You’re everywhere. All the time.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” Lochlan’s eyes fell to the ground, a frown forming before he wiped it away and stared at her with a blank expression. When she didn’t immediately answer, Lochlan turned and walked away.

  “No!” Elin shouted, running after him. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Lochlan didn’t stop. In fact, he picked up his pace.

  “Blast!” Elin said. She stopped…and then…she shimmered into a kaleidoscope of orbs, reemerging in front of Lochlan, who abruptly stopped. She held up her hands, a pleading look in her eyes. “Please. I didn’t mean that. Don’t leave. I need you.”

  Searly held his breath. He wasn’t sure what he was witnessing but he hoped Lochlan would not be a fool. Surely he could see her panic, her sincerity. She cared about him. It was written all over her face.

  “Please,” she said again. “I do not want you to go.”

  Lochlan only stood there.

  Answer her you fool!

  A breeze picked up a leaf and it fluttered around Searly’s feet. He followed the leaf for several seconds before his patience wore thin. Gritting his teeth, he pulled at his hair in frustration.

  Now is not the time to be stubborn!

  It felt like hours that Searly waited in the wings, holding his own breath until Lochlan spoke.

  “Well done, acushla. Tell me, what expression is on Searly’s face right now?”

  What?

  Elin glanced around Lochlan’s large form and stared right into Searly’s eyes. Her lip curled into a smirk. “He seems rather confused if I must say. And perhaps a little…”

  Searly narrowed his eyes at her. They had known he was there the whole time. They were having him on.

  “Annoyed?” She squinted, studying him more closely, and said, “Yes, definitely annoyed.”

  Searly stepped away from the corner of the manor and out into the open. He spread his arms out to his sides. “What gave me away? I was quiet as a mouse.”

  “I smelled you,” Elin said, sidestepping around Lochlan in a wide berth.

  Searly crossed his arms. “I don’t rather know how to take that.”

  Elin laughed and glanced at Lochlan, who wore a mischievous grin, his eyes following her every move. “I have been around you long enough to know your scent.” She shrugged. “I have realized, with the knowledge of who I am, that my senses are quite sensitive. My powers are coming back to me more and more.”

  “Well,” Searly said, unfolding his arms, “I find that most pleasing.” He held out his hands for Elin, which she immediately latched onto. Then she hugged him. His eyes flickered over to the Lord of the manor who appeared equal parts pleased and sad as he watched Elin embrace him.

  Of course he hugged her back and then pulled away, knowing how his friend must feel, not being able to hold the woman who most surely held his heart.

 
; “Doing well, my child?” Searly asked. “We have missed you both at the monastery.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, we have…” she looked to Lochlan and for minute they held each other’s gaze. Clearing her throat, she said, “We have been training. I’m getting better.”

  “Oh?” Searly quirked an eyebrow, a devilish gleam in his eye. “Is this true, milord? Do tell.”

  Lochlan proudly stepped forward. “She is adapting.”

  Again, Lochlan and Elin stared, their eyes roaming back to each other. For the longest, Searly stood there, feeling completely invisible. He waited a minute while the two grappled to hang on to the other the only way they could, he supposed. Tragic this was. But when he observed them again, he knew what he was witnessing. Love.

  Searly laughed to himself because he was certain neither one of them had even realized yet. “Splendid,” he said, his heart feeling warm and sentimental.

  They blinked, the sound of his voice bringing the two out of…well…wherever they had gone.

  Elin blushed. “What did you say?”

  Lochlan pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, finding something in the trees to stare at, anything to avoid Searly’s perceptiveness.

  Smiling, Searly said, “Oh nothing.” He pulled a wine sack out from underneath his robe. “Who’s drinking with me?”

  The three of them gathered around the dining table, a fire lit more for ambiance than warmth, and because the sun was beginning to set, lanterns were also scattered about. Searly continued to notice the quiet glances Lochlan and Elin gave one another. Each glance was a soft caress, a whisper, a gesture.

  A promise.

  Searly’s own heart swelled in his chest. All his life, he’d never seen his dearest friend besotted so thoroughly and so completely.

  After dinner, and a goblet of wine later, Elin rubbed at her temples.

  “Something wrong?” Lochlan asked.

  “I’m a bit tired,” she said, rolling her shoulders and then her neck. “I think I’ll ready myself for bed. Give you two time alone.” Her eyes found Searly’s. “I am pleased you came for a visit today. You’ve been missed.”