Deep is the Night: Dark Fire

by Denise A. Agnew

  She put her hands out in front of her, as if to ward off the trembling and the monster lurking somewhere near. “No, I am not.”

  “If you touch her, I swear I will hunt you down and skewer your fucking entrails to a tree!” came Lachlan’s guttural warning.

  Another eerie laugh, this one closer, trickled through the night. “She has two choices. Surrender to me, or see you both die.”

  Anger made her say, “Forget it, vampire! I’m not surrendering anything to you. I told you I belong to one man alone. Lachlan Tavish.”

  She meant the statement with all her heart, and somehow she knew that declaration, made aloud, owned power.

  Ronan, who’d remained quiet during the exchange, finally spoke. “She’s stronger than you know. That’s why you didn’t try and seduce her, wasn’t it”

  A low rumbling, like an earthquake, shook the area.

  An earthquake? The earth trembled and lurched to one side.

  Erin lost her footing and fell backwards, a shriek of surprise slipping from her throat.

  “Erin?” Lachlan cried out again. “Erin!”

  She landed with a thump on her ass and realized her back also came up against a wall. Trembling, she levered up onto her knees. “I’m all right!”

  “Thank God.” Lachlan’s breathy statement sounded desperate. “Damn it to hell, Ronan, we’ve got to get her out of there.”

  A whooshing noise came from above, and suddenly a body from above sailed down toward her. Backing up against the wall, she flinched as the figure landed on its feet in front of her. She gasped as a hard hand gripped her arm.

  “It’s me.” Ronan’s voice calmed her. He looked around him, eyes flickering with that dark fire she knew so well in Lachlan’s eyes. “I don’t see anyone down here and no drop offs. The only way we’ll get her out of here is if I toss her up to you.”

  Erin swallowed hard. “Toss me?”

  She couldn’t see anything but his eyes, but she saw humor glowing for one second in their brown and golden depths. “Sure, and it’s a fine way to fly.”

  Ronan clamped his hands on her waist. “Now, whatever you do. Stand straight and keep your arms up above your head. That hole isn’t that wide. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re going to toss me up all that way?” she asked.

  “That’s right.” His grip tightened and with a quick dip of his knees, he did as he said he would.

  She let out a gasp as he lifted her with an incredible power she felt through each inch of her aching body. Erin was flying, and she tightened her muscles and kept her arms straight out above her head like a diver going into a pool.

  Powerful arms clamped around her, and she scented Lachlan’s familiar musk as he caught her close. “Lass, you scared the shit out of me.”

  “You’re scared?” Her voice wobbled as she buried her face against him and held on tight.

  A howling came from behind them, so sharp and loud Erin felt it to the soles of her shoes. A scream echoed in the chamber, through the treetops and down through the dozens of headstones littering the fields down the hills.

  Not the screech of a dying vampire, but the challenge of evil ready to battle.

  “Behind us!” Lachlan turned with a movement so quick he disappeared in the semi-darkness, then reappeared in a flash. “Get out of the crypt!”

  She didn’t have time to see if Ronan had escaped the hole. Instead, Lachlan started toward the crypt door.

  “Wait,” she whispered.

  As they edged through the doorway, Erin felt the cold around her increase. It pierced her clothing like an icicle dagger, freezing death and horror mingled with an eternal hell.

  A form swooped down on them like a glider, all huge wings and hell-red eyes boiling at the center.

  “Down!” Lachlan dropped and she followed, flopping to her belly.

  Propped on her elbows, she drew out her weapon and aimed the gun toward the long slope of the hill, but in the darkness the bird-like figure had disappeared. What if the ancient one materialized as a gargoyle? A bat? From what Lachlan and Ronan told her, the possibilities could be endless. How did she fight something that may look harmless one moment, then turn on her the next? How did she fight a malignancy she couldn’t see?

  “Mother Mary,” Ronan’s voice sounded in the doorway of the crypt, and as she turned to look at him, he moved so quickly he went invisible. Ronan appeared to her left, lying on his belly as they did. “Where is the bastard? I thought he was in the hole with us.”

  “I think he was out here all the time,” Lachlan said.

  Ronan made a grunt of disgust. “Fucker threw his voice like a blinking ventriloquist.”

  A breeze wafted over them, stirring the hair around her head. Somewhere in her adventure falling down the hole, she’d lost her hat. Cold shafted up and down her body like the unrelenting hands of evil.

  The stink hit her nose first, and then she knew. The ancient one stood in the doorway of the crypt. Behind them.

  Ronan and Lachlan must have felt the presence of the archaic vampire the same time she did. She rolled to her back and pointed the gun at the solid black form with a demon’s horrible eyes. Fire burned in the center of the vampire’s stare, hell-deep and terror unleashed. Nausea made her want to retch.

  The vampire jumped straight up and soared into the air as wings several feet long spread like a deadly canopy over their heads.

  “He’s coming in again!” Lachlan stood and with a lunge he leapt into the sky, his hands reaching for the terrible bird above them. A growl parted his lips as he latched onto one wing and hung suspended.

  Frozen with horror, Erin watched as the form swooped and plunged, weighed down by Lachlan’s body.

  Ronan followed Lachlan’s lead as he shot upward, his vampire strength carrying him twenty feet from the ground. With both arms he grabbed the creature’s other black wing and cried out in triumph. Each flap shook the two men, threatening to toss them off.

  She thought about shooting the obsidian creature.

  No. She might hit Lachlan or Ronan. She couldn’t do it.

  Stop it, Dasoria. Or I will kill them both.

  She hesitated, her fingers loosened on the weapon.

  She heard Lachlan’s voice roaring through her head, above the insane cackle of the vampire. Shoot it! Erin, shoot it!

  Erin flipped off the safety.

  Pain lanced through her head, and with a second to pray she wouldn’t hit her beloved or Ronan, she pulled the trigger.

  An agonized scream tore through her skull, this time the voice so that all could hear. “Dasoria!”

  The bird faltered, wings still. It started to plunge to earth.

  “Lachlan, no!”

  Erin scrambled to her feet, the weapon clutched in her fingers. As the evil shape drifted, she saw Lachlan and Ronan dangling from the great wings. She tracked the path of the drifting monster, and followed, racing between and around gravestones. To her surprise the creature still whispered in her head.

  Damn you. The whine, high-pitched, cut through her head like glass shards. She stumbled, almost fell. Damn you to a black existence. You betrayed me.

  Throwing all caution aside, she ran harder, toward the decent of the bird. One figure dropped, and she screamed.

  Lachlan! She tried to get a response from him. Lachlan!

  Nothing.

  Dashing like a madwoman toward the figure, she saw the crumpled form lying among bushes near a tree. Mangled.

  “Oh, God. Oh, please, no.”

  She dropped to her knees by the body and recognized Ronan. He lay sprawled on his back, eyes closed, arms outstretched. One leg twisted at a strange angle, and blood matted the front of his hair.

  Another shriek slammed into her head and she fell to her side, writhing with the agony. Damn you all to hell!

  She rolled over and saw Lachlan swing and jump. “Lachlan!”

  He cleared a tree and then she couldn’t see him. The bird turned and came her wa
y.

  Her breath rasped in her lungs, her heart pounded almost out of her chest. Before she could lift the gun to take aim, the dark figure dropped upon her. A horrid stench, like the mouth of a rotten sewer clawed at her throat. Her eyes watered and she choked, and through the haze she saw the red eyes pin her with hatred more forceful than anything imagined in her worst nightmares. Putrid and poisonous, the vampire breath cut off her air.

  No, not a bird.

  A gargoyle with the talons of an eagle and the hideous gaze of a monster.

  Darkness started to fall over her vision.

  Die bitch. Die for making me search for you hundreds of years.

  With a scream of hatred, she spilled all the anger inside her, mixed with the pain of loosing the man she loved.

  As claws pierced her arms and lifted her up, she wailed. The ground under her feet disappeared as the vampire took her into the air. With her last strength she knew what she must do. The beast climbed.

  Ten feet.

  Twenty.

  The man she loved was dead. What did she have to live for?

  She drew the gun up between their bodies and pulled the trigger.

  * * * * *

  Pain lingered in Erin’s body as she became aware of her surroundings. She blinked, her eyes focusing on the stars above her head. She was so tired.

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she tried to determine the damage. The pain that remained wasn’t sharp, so maybe, just maybe she hadn’t broken anything.

  Then she remembered Lachlan.

  And her heart thumped painfully.

  “Lachlan,” she whispered, and a sob started in her throat. The sound that came from her sounded more animal than human.

  Erin heard footsteps hurrying toward her, and the heavy breathing of a man.

  “There she is!” Ronan’s strong voice hurt her head, but at least the drumming in her skull was a dull roar in comparison to earlier pain.

  “Erin!”

  Was she dreaming? Had she heard Lachlan’s hoarse, frantic voice? Staggering joy penetrated the last of the fog in her brain.

  A thud and someone dropped to their knees next to her. Eyes glowed in the darkness.

  Despite pain she sat up with a yell, her gun at the ready.

  Powerful arms encircled her and another set of hands grabbed the weapon and yanked it away. “Thank God. Easy, lass, easy. You’re safe.”

  “Lachlan?”

  She felt his lips on her forehead, his mouth peppering her with searching kisses. “Oh, lass, I thought I’d lost you.” His voice, husky with emotion, heaved with a shaky sigh. He caressed her, his hands searching her body for injury. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I—I don’t think so.”

  Ronan’s laugh, deep with amusement, rumbled over her head. Lachlan spewed a language that sounded like Gaelic, but it made the vampire laugh harder.

  “I’m sorry,” Ronan said as he tried to sober. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help but find this funny.” In the semi-darkness she saw he held the gun. “She fights with the world’s oldest vampire and when she’s dumped onto the ground, even then the little wench doesn’t lose her weapon.”

  She felt Lachlan’s lips move against her cheek, and she knew his lips twitched in a smile. “Screw you, Ronan. Don’t call my woman a wench.”

  “Your woman?” she asked in mock anger, profound relief making her dizzy.

  Lachlan’s lips covered hers in a tender kiss. She returned the message, her heart filled with love for the man holding her so tenderly.

  When their lips parted, she looked at Ronan. “I thought you were dead, too.”

  Ronan shrugged, then she saw his vampire eyes narrow with pain. “Broke a rib or two and my left leg. But they mended in a flash. The perks of being a vampire.”

  When her mouth fell open and she said nothing, Ronan continued. “Now you, you fell damn near twenty feet.” He sat on the ground with a thump. “Fell farther than I did and didn’t break a thing. It’s a bloody miracle.”

  Falling.

  She remembered the black gargoyle, and with a jolt horror slammed into her. “The ancient one.”

  Lachlan’s arms tightened around her. “You shot him twice with the silver. I was running toward your when you got him the second time and he dropped you. He crashed into the woods just beyond.” He nodded in the direction of the forest past the graveyard.

  Ronan got to his feet, still clutching the gun. “I’ll search the woods and make sure it’s finished.”

  Lachlan lifted her into his arms and marched back to the car without another word to Ronan.

  She nestled into the security of Lachlan’s strong arms. “Should we let him go alone?”

  “He can take care of himself.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “We’re getting you checked out. “ Lachlan looked down on her as he walked. “I could understand if you didn’t forgive me, though, lass.”

  Incredulous, she clung to his jacket and the hard body beneath it. “What?”

  “I didn’t protect you.”

  “You did. You fought for me. Just as I fought for you. We saved each other.”

  Warmth, infused with passion and love flowed through her as his eyes showed love and unswerving devotion in a searing glance. “You’re right again, lass.”

  A niggling of darkness brushed her soul and she had to ask, “What if the ancient one isn’t dead, Lachlan?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  * * * * *

  The gentle sound of soft classical music filled Erin’s living room. Three days had passed since the midnight battle in the graveyard, and now this evening they celebrated surviving a battle with the oldest vampire on earth. She listened to the deep laughs of two of her favorite men, Lachlan and Ronan. Gilda, Tom and Mark’s voices mingled as Tom told another joke.

  As she finished dumping the bag of pretzels into a big bowl and filled another container with chips, she marveled at everything that had happened in those three days.

  Gilda and Tom came to accept that vampires existed. Gilda gave Ronan a mistrustful and wide berth every time he came near. Although Erin assured her she could trust him, Gilda couldn’t stand to be too near the powerful vampire. She kept looking at his mouth, expecting to see long teeth. Ronan guaranteed Gilda that his teeth only grew when he fought or intended to bite. He hadn’t feasted on a human, he insisted, since the American Revolution.

  One thing they could all count upon, they couldn’t feel too secure.

  Ronan and Lachlan didn’t locate the ancient one’s body, nor any sign of a vampire turned gargoyle. Maybe the old vampire lay wounded in a secluded region, but for the time being he didn’t stalk the area. Ronan checked the crypt daily and saw no evidence of current occupation.

  If they could be certain about the ancient one’s present location, Erin would be more comfortable. At least they’d inflicted some damage to the cursed creature, or he would have attacked by now.

  Ronan maintained they should have another plan of action for when the ancient one returned and Lachlan agreed. Their party for celebrating their survival would be a caucus with a battle plan in a few minutes.

  A scratching noise at the window made Erin’s breath catch. She glanced out and caught the steady movement of a pine branch tapping against the window. With a deep breath, she stabilized her nerves.

  She no longer suffered headaches and didn’t hear the ancient one’s voice in her head, and that should have made her happy. She knew she’d need the reassurance of Lachlan’s arms around her. Erin didn’t like insecurity, and even more, she loathed dependence. With the ancient one out there, what choice did she have?

  You’ll be all right. Her own voice echoed in her head, an attempt at poise she needed time to resurrect.

  Two hands slipped around her waist, and she jumped.

  Lachlan’s warm laugh tickled her ear as he nuzzled her neck. “
Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “Beast.” She clasped his forearm and sank into the treasured bliss of his embrace. Tilting her head to the side so he could nibble, she enjoyed the tingling sensation as his lips traced her skin. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to see what’s taking you so long. Everything all right?”

  She turned in his arms, clasping those hard biceps that would cradle her through the day and long into the night. “Just thinking.”

  “About the ancient one?”

  “Unfortunately. What are we going to do, Lachlan? You and I know he’s not dead. Ronan said as much.”

  “We’ll make sure to keep on guard. I don’t know how long we have before he comes back.”

  “A day or two, most likely. Maybe a week.” Ronan’s voice broke over them as he entered the kitchen. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” He tapped one ear. “Vampire hearing, you know.”

  A wry smile touched the vampire’s lips, and dressed in dark, silky Italian-made shirt and expensive looking wool pants, he looked more like a sophisticated European businessman than a vampire.

  Right on queue Gilda and Tom entered the kitchen. Tom hovered around Gilda most of the time now, his gaze watchful. Gilda remained jumpy, and Erin wished Gilda would tell Tom about what the ancient one did to her. She worried because she could see the pain eating Gilda alive. Then again, what purpose would it serve in the long run to tell Tom she’d been seduced? Hurt feelings? A rift between them? In the end, they would have to work out any problems on their own.

  “I smell something cooking.” Tom reached over to snatch the chip bowl.

  Lachlan slapped Ronan on the back. “Ronan’s brain.”

  “Ah, that explains everything.” Gilda retrieved the dip bowl. “Are we having the party in here, or what?”

  “Let’s go to the living room where it’s more comfortable.” Erin led the way, realizing that the party turned into a strategy session as well.

  Mark sat in a chair across the room, more absorbed in a book about vampires than in the actual conversation. To everyone’s surprise, the smart boy launched right into research. He wanted to help his mother and his friends. He didn’t look up when they entered the room.