by Denise Agnew
The bastard stayed in his gargoyle head form, too spineless to transform into his true shape and reveal the face no one alive had seen. “Hello, Ronan.” The ancient one’s voice enveloped the tunnel, gravel-filled and layered with hatred deeper than Ronan remembered from their last encounter. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Spiced with a bit of Scotland, the thousand-year-old vampire’s voice would chill mortal hearts to the bone. Not Ronan. He’d talked with this beast on too many occasions to dread the effect the vampire’s voice could inflict.
“Ancient one. You’ve called off your sleep too early.”
A chuckle reverberated in the tunnel. “Too early for you, perhaps. Aye, you and Lachlan and your other weakling friends will regret my early return. You thought you would have more time to work on defeating me. Well, you were sadly mistaken.”
Evidently. If he didn’t think of something right here and now, all hell would break loose. He took one step back from the evil so he could tilt his gaze upward and obtain a better look at his enemy. Shit. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t remember the last time his confidence felt so in the toilet.
“You should give up.” The ancient one held out a thin, scaly hand as grey as death. “I’ve too much power for you to defeat me. Now it’s assured once and for all.”
“No. I’ve tracked you down, and now I’ll have my revenge.”
The laugher echoing down the tunnels almost hurt Ronan’s ears. “That is all you want, isn’t it? Not to help the stupid mortals. Why don’t you turn away from this fruitless chase, and I’ll allow you to leave unharmed. As one vampire to another, a gift.”
Unbelievable. This stinking piece of flesh wanted him to quit? “I don’t think so.”
“Then prepare to die.”
Ronan had heard lamer lines in B-grade movies, but coming from the guttural voice of this vampire, it sounded too serious for celluloid.
Before Ronan could do more than brace for impact, the ancient one launched across the small space between them.
“Feckin’ A,” Ronan said under his breath.
Ronan twisted to the side and avoided the head-on force of the ancient one’s heavier body.
Twirling in the air like a top, the ancient one stopped before he impacted with the wall ahead. “Come here, little vampire. I can make this hard or easy. It’s your choice.”
“Since when, asshole? I don’t remember you making your bloodsucking easy on anyone.”
The ancient one walked toward him. “Since I’ve discovered new strength.”
Renewed anger made Ronan cocky and he braced again. “Bring it on, tit meat.”
The ancient one laughed, his harsh laughter once again making Ronan wince. “My, my, but you’ve become a trash mouth. Spending too much time with little dick Sorley.”
“I wouldn’t be so confident if I was you.”
The ancient one charged.
Ronan yanked the weapon out of his holster at his waist and aimed. He pulled the trigger and hoped the silver bullet would find its mark. As the pistol barked out a report, the ancient one moved with laser speed.
Ronan tried to dodge, but the old vampire’s impact threw him backwards at a tremendous rate. Ronan hit a wall and his breath whooshed out. Pain careened into his whole body, and he knew a mere mortal would have been crushed like a bug. He lost his grip on the weapon.
The ancient one rushed again, this time coming in with a two-handed grip around Ronan’s neck. Ronan’s throat hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but at least he couldn’t be strangled. The ancient one drew Ronan off his feet and swung him by the neck in a wide arch. As Ronan was tossed away like a weed, he used his catlike agility to twist his body and attempt to land on his feet. Instead he skidded on the rocky soil. He tripped and landed face down. He stood immediately and swung around. The ancient one paused a short distance away, his smile filled with satisfaction. His razor-sharp teeth, as pointy and revolting as anything owned by a demon, made his grin particularly disgusting.
“The evil in the tunnels beneath the Gunn Inn has given me all I need to defeat you and everyone else in this pitiful town, Ronan Kieran.”
Ronan gritted his teeth in regret. Okay, how the hell would he get out of this one in one piece? If he’d fucked Clarissa tonight he might have more strength. Might survive this attack. He’d waited too long.
“Are you hoping to outwit me?” The ancient one asked. “I don’t think so. You can’t save your friends anymore than you could save sweet, innocent little Fionnghuala.”
Taunted beyond endurance, Ronan’s hot anger sent him rushing toward the older vampire. “Fenella loved me, you piece of shit and you took her away from me. Go to hell!”
Ronan attacked, kicking the bigger vampire’s legs out from under him. The old vampire went down with a roar. Ronan’s energy surged and he leapt into the air just low enough not to hit the ceiling but to come down on the ancient one’s stomach area with both feet. As he growled and pushed his feet deep, the other vampire yelled and grabbed Ronan’s ankles. With a shove of tremendous force, he flipped Ronan backwards end over end. Ronan managed to get his hands under him and executed the flip onto his feet as if he intended to do it all along. He retrieved his weapon and took dead aim at the older vampire’s heart. He fired.
The bullet hit. The ancient one reeled backward, arms flailing. With a screech like an enraged bat, the ancient one staggered for a moment.
Feckin’-A yes! Ronan prepared to take another shot. Maybe he could—
The old vampire wavered but didn’t fall. Then he put one hand to his heart area and the bullet popped out in his hand and to the floor.
Mother Mary. The bastard couldn’t be hurt by silver bullets anymore.
Shocked, Ronan didn’t move.
The ancient one repositioned on the far side of the tunnel. The gargoyle-headed creep might be the most powerful vampire on earth, but he seemed bigger, hardier and far more pissed than Ronan had ever seen him.
Something had changed in the ancient one, and not for the better.
Then, before Ronan could blink, he felt the vampire behind him. A powerful punch landed in Ronan’s back and red-hot pain lanced his entire body. Groaning in extreme pain, Ronan started to fall. The ancient one grabbed Ronan by the waist and picked him up. With a mighty roar he tossed Ronan like a ball toward the opposite end of the tunnel.
Beyond the pain rocketing through his body, Ronan tried to slow his rate of speed as he came toward the T-junction wall between two tunnels.
I’m going too fast.
Oh, shit.
The wall came up and he hit full force. Everything went black.
* * * * *
Clarissa’s nightmares came alive as she tossed and turned in the hotel bed.
Chills rippled over her skin as she walked in the tunnels beneath the crypt. Freezing cold, without a jacket, she walked fast toward an unknown area. She must locate Ronan right away, though she couldn’t understand why.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her limbs tight with exhaustion as she trembled in the biting cold. In her gut she knew something had gone dreadfully wrong.
She dared to speak. “Ronan! Ronan where are you?”
No answer. Fear leaked into her bloodstream as sweat formed on her forehead. Anxiety and worry formed out of nowhere and took her prisoner. She couldn’t remember feeling this devastated, as if someone she loved beyond all things had been taken from her.
“Ronan, damn it, where are you?”
Then she saw a form against the wall at the far side of the tunnel and her heart wanted to stop. “Ronan?”
She ran toward the figure and when she reached it, she saw him lying unconscious in a crumpled heap on his back, his face bloodied, a gash in his side and blood soaking his sweater. “Ronan!”
She started to reach out for him and his eyes snapped open.
She inhaled sharply. “Thank God.”
His right hand went out to her but she couldn’t move. Tears of worry and fear stung her
eyes. She tried to form words, but no sounds came from her throat.
His eyes widened, his lips parting as he struggled to convey something to her. She heard him strain to say, “Clarissa.”
A horrible sense of dread crept over her and she swung around.
A gargoyle head, red eyes flashing with hatred, glared at Ronan and then laughed. She shivered with repulsion. Spikes of cold, unholy fear invaded her.
“No!”
Clarissa snapped out of her dream with a jolt as she sat upright in bed. Quivering, she reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Frantic, she slipped out of bed and grabbed her robe. She put it on and fastened the ties around her waist with shaky fingers. She grabbed her slippers by the bed and jammed them on her feet. Then she stopped.
“What am I doing?” Sinking down on the edge of the bed, she crossed her arms and waited for some of the shaking to subside.
As in her dream, she obeyed reflex action. Rubbing her temples, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She must calm down and think.
“It was just a dream.”
Wasn’t it?
Ronan said he’d retrieve her camera, but why would she dream about him being injured unless…unless this ancient one had harmed him? Determined to forget her reaction to the weird dream, she took off her robe and slippers. When she saw Ronan tomorrow she’d tell him about the weird dream and he’d laugh.
Terror lingered and with it the contrasting memories of Ronan’s extraordinary lovemaking. How did a woman stand being around Ronan Kieran without liquefying into a writhing mass of sexuality on a regular basis?
She glanced at the bedside clock and it read four o’clock in the morning. Today would be a long day. No doubt Ronan would try to monopolize all her time. She supposed she couldn’t avoid him; he’d managed to evade answering many of her questions and they hadn’t discussed how to defeat the ancient one and how she fit into the picture, other than prophetic dreams.
With a sigh of exhaustion, she closed her eyes and hoped for sleep.
* * * * *
Clarissa waited in her room until nine in the morning but Ronan didn’t show. With the residual disturbance of last night’s dream continuing to haunt her, she paced the room, dressed in her warmest turtleneck and sweater and her flannel-lined jeans. The weather channel on the television said conditions would hover around the freezing mark for the rest of the week.
Damn Ronan. Didn’t he understand she needed her camera to do her work? Then she sighed in self-recrimination. The man offered to get her camera to keep her safe and here she was complaining about it? Guilt stopped her mental carping.
A few moments later, Clarissa dialed Erin’s home and Lachlan answered. She asked if they’d seen Ronan.
“No,” Lachlan said. “We didn’t see him after he left with you. “Why?”
“When he left me last night, he said he’d return this morning with my camera. I figured he’d be here by now.”
“I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s one tough son-of-a-bitch. If he hasn’t turned up this morning it’s for a good reason.”
“I wasn’t worried about him. I was concerned about my camera.”
Lachlan laughed. “Okay. If I see him I’ll be sure to tell him. By the way, if you want company, Erin is working at the library this morning. We could swing by and pick you up. You’ll be safe there.”
“What I really need is an escort to take me around to get more photographs.”
“Clarissa,” Lachlan’s voice sounded a little perturbed, “don’t you think staying safe and figuring out how to finish off the ancient one is more important?”
For a moment she’d forgotten that everything wasn’t normal. “Yes. But I can’t help any of you figure out what needs to be done while I’m stuck in this hotel room.”
“Good point.”
They made plans to meet in the lobby in thirty minutes. She left a note on her bed stand and at the front desk for Ronan telling him where she’d gone.
As she stood in the lobby, she half wished Ronan would come striding into the hotel. Ronan’s absence felt wrong, and she wished she understood why. By the time Erin walked into the lobby with Lachlan’s arm around her, Clarissa’s nerves felt a little frayed. She envied the easy love she felt flowing between the big Scot and the petite woman. Erin managed to look happy despite the events surrounding them. Lachlan’s initial expression, stern and watchful, changed to relaxed.
Erin and Lachlan greeted her with smiles and hugs, but Clarissa saw the worried expressions on their faces. They walked out to Erin’s Subaru Forester, piled inside, and Lachlan headed toward the library.
Erin turned to look at Clarissa in the backseat. Her brows were pinched together a little. “Now tell me why you’re frowning so hard.”
Shrugging, Clarissa tried pushing away her fears. “I wish I could tell you. It’s just a niggling feeling I’ve had since I woke up this morning. A dream.”
“A prophetic dream?” Lachlan asked.
“I’m not sure.” Clarissa thought about it a little more. “Not all of my dreams are prophetic. This one was frightening and weird.”
“Tell us,” Erin said.
“I was walking through the tunnel area beneath the crypt. The one I fell into. I could see in the dark, which is weird. I saw a body at a fork in the tunnel. I realize when I get there its Ronan. He looks bloodied, like he’s been in a fight. At first I think he’s dead, but then he opens his eyes and reaches out for me. He says my name, but then I realize there’s someone behind me. I turn around and there’s this gargoyle-faced figure.”
“Oh, no,” Erin whispered. “You’ve seen the ancient one in your dreams.”
A shiver ran over Clarissa. “So this could be a prophetic dream. Something that might happen to Ronan in the future.” Worry added to the cold feeling inside her. “I’ll tell him as soon as I see him.”
Erin glanced at Lachlan, then back to Clarissa. She cleared her throat. “There’s something else we should discuss. I mean, I feel a little awkward asking you—”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t ask,” Lachlan said.
Glancing at her fiancé, Erin allowed a crooked grin to part her lips.
Curious, Clarissa spoke up. “Ask me what?”
Erin hesitated, a flush spreading up her face. “Did Ronan tell you what must happen before the ancient one can be defeated?”
“No. He started to. I thought for certain he’d explain considering how important it is we figure out how to stop the ancient one right away.”
Lachlan made a sound between a groan and a growl. “Damn, Ronan. He should have told you by now.”
Rather than defend him, Clarissa said, “Since he’s not here, maybe you should tell me.”
“It’s a little difficult to talk about, but…well…” Discomfort etched Erin’s face. “It’s very personal. Ronan will probably be mad as hell if I tell you.”
A little guilt crept into Clarissa as well as embarrassment. She couldn’t say Ronan had been too distracted by sex to give her any important information. “He probably would have told me, but I mentioned my camera and he volunteered to get it.”
“But he said he was going to come back last night?” Lachlan asked as Clarissa saw him glance in the rearview mirror.
“He was supposed to stop by this morning,” Clarissa said. So, did these two think that she’d slept with Ronan? That could explain the awkwardness. She considered them new friends, but her sexual relationships weren’t their business. “He’ll probably stop by the hotel first and when he sees my note he’ll come by the library right away.”
Erin nodded. “We’ll leave explanations to him.”
“Erin,” Clarissa said with a warning in her voice. “Come on, ‘fess up. What’s going on? What should he have told me?”
Erin managed a weak smile. “It has to do with saving Pine Forest, as you know. But there’s much more.” Erin’s gaze darted to the snowy landscape outside. “An Irish seer that Ronan consulted and Yusuf, a long tim
e vampire hunter in Morocco, told Ronan the only way to defeat the ancient one is if Ronan makes love to a woman.”
Clarissa blinked. “What?”
Erin flushed again. “Ronan must have sex and from that mating the town will somehow be saved.”
Clarissa sank back against the seat, amazement and disbelief warring inside her.
“I see we’ve left you speechless,” Lachlan said a short time later.
Resentment eroded Clarissa’s control. “Oh no, I’m not speechless. I’m mad as hell.”
Chapter Ten
Clarissa thought Erin looked a little startled, but then who could blame her. Just as no one could censure Clarissa if she kicked Ronan’s handsome ass the next time she saw him.
“I’m going to kill him,” Clarissa mumbled, staring at the floorboard.
Erin put up a placating hand. “It’s not an easy thing to tell someone.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, he should have told you before things became…intimate…”
Aha. So Erin thinks I already slept with him.
“So you all knew this last night?” Clarissa asked.
Erin’s gentle eyes held remorse. “We’ve known for a long time what Ronan would have to do.”
Clarissa chanced a glance in the rearview mirror and the seriousness in Lachlan’s eyes.
“We’d never dream of getting into a couple’s personal business like this if it wasn’t important to the survival of this town,” Lachlan said.
Clarissa nodded and released a breath. “I’m not angry with either of you. I’m pissed at Ronan.”
“Maybe he was afraid to tell you?” Erin asked.
Clarissa considered the possibility for two seconds. “That doesn’t seem likely. Have you ever known him to be scared of anything?”
Lachlan sniffed. “No way. He’s a fearless bastard.”
Bastard is right.
They arrived at the library a few moments later, and when they went inside Clarissa hardly noticed the quiet and the few people milling around the area. Instead her thoughts centered around how many ways she could kill Ronan.
