Die By Night

by Kaitlynn Aisling

  I stiffen, and he tenses but doesn’t remove his hand. He continues to sing, pausing to sift kisses through my hair. I’ll rest; allow him a sense of victory. It doesn’t change anything.

  No, this doesn’t change a thing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I wake in the cabin bed next to Gavin, unsure how I got there. I wake to cramps and pain, my water breaking to form a pool beneath my body.

  The baby is coming. Two weeks too early.

  There is a flurry of activity and Connor invades our space, turning the bedroom into chaos.

  “You promised an epidural,” I scream at Gavin, blaming him for this. I’m giving birth in a cabin in the woods. How is this happening?

  “I know, baby. I know. Next time.”

  “Next time?!”

  “Shhh, Sweetheart.”

  Heather steps in then, likely having heard my yells and screams, perhaps worried I’ll kill her precious rìgh.

  “What time is it?” I ask, gritting my teeth.

  “Two.”

  So, the treaty is officially worthless. How much time do we have?

  “Natalie, look at me,” Heather orders.

  Her words are firm, but low. She’s not shouting, but she has my attention. She grabs my chin, as if to ensure I’m focused on her.

  “The only thing you need to worry about right now is this baby. Do you understand? Nothing else matters, just the baby.”

  And for the next ten hours, Peanut is my world.

  I wish I could say that it’s all a blur, a mismatch of images and feelings and pushing.

  It’s not.

  It’s painful, agonizingly so. Beyond the pain is a constant effort not to think about what could appear in the doorway at any minute. A couple of times I think that Gavin is going to lose his head and his twitchy fingers are going to morph into a full on transformation.

  However, at the end of those ten hours, all of that fades away, because in my arms I hold the most beautiful baby boy I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing upon.

  His hair is light, like mine, forming little waves of gilded blond on his precious head. His eyes are a unique shade of brown, with a golden glint reminiscent of his father’s whiskey eyes. Every time he blinks sleepily at me, I’m reminded of that bottle of Clontarf whiskey the night I met his father.

  And Gavin? He’s beside himself. The baby is a boy, just as I kept trying to tell him. That means something more than what I know or understand, judging by the speaking looks being exchanged between Connor, Hawke, and Heather. Gavin doesn’t participate in the unspoken conversation; he’s captivated by our son.

  “His name is Liam,” I tell the room.

  “A good Scottish name for a strong lad,” Gavin voices his approval.

  His voice is thick with tears that he’s too proud to shed.

  Heather smiles at the name, but she still looks guarded.

  After clumsily working my way through feeding the baby, Gavin insists I rest. He tucks little Liam close to me and nods to Connor. The curtains have remained closed all this time, but now Connor is standing in front of the window, another barrier to outsiders attempting to see inside.

  I sleep off and on for the next two days. Liam is a wonder, but something is going on behind the scenes to which I’m not privy, and it keeps me from truly enjoying the time with my son. I see Gavin, Connor, and Heather. That’s it. No one has been allowed to visit. I’m enjoying the time to recover, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is making me crazy.

  The sooner Heather clears me for travel, the sooner we can go to my papa, and the better off we’ll all be.

  On the third day, I wake to Heather and Gavin’s voices in the living room. I pretend to sleep, turning away from Connor’s watchful eyes, and am for once thankful of the lack of sound proofing of the cabin. Hawke joins the other two; I hear his murmured greeting.

  Then the conversation gets interesting . . .

  “This is going to cause problems,” Hawke says.

  “Because I’m no’ Rìgh? Somehow I’ve always known.”

  “No one needs to know! Instate the vote and you’re assured,” Heather butts in. “You were discussing democracy, right? Go outside and let the pack vote. Don’t mention the baby’s sex until after.”

  “No, that would no’ be right. I doona want my first act as king tae be based on deceit. It will come back tae haunt me later if I doona just admit the truth now, before any leadership decisions are made. We canno’ keep the bairn hidden for much longer.”

  “You’re a better man than I, which is why you were meant to be king,” Hawke says.

  “Natalie has been trying tae convert me tae the US way o’ thinking. The pack should elect their leaders and be allowed a voice in major decisions. She says that ensuring presidents doona stay in office past term limits keeps leadership fresh.’”

  “Thank you for the political science lesson, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’m no’ meant to be king. We doona need a king. We need democracy.”

  “You’re just asking for someone to hurt you now.”

  “Since when has that stopped me?”

  “Just don’t die on me, bràthair. I’m not sure anyone else could put up with me.”

  “You’re serious about this?” Heather joins in.

  “Aye.”

  “Now’s not the time for political unrest and shift in leadership, Gavin. We’ve already discussed the problem of Duncan, but you have to know he’s not the only elder that will fight you on this. You think you have a rift in your pack now, just try and replace tradition with western practices,” Hawke reasons.

  “How much time do we have? Why haven’t the witches swarmed us yet?” Heather asks.

  “They doona know where we are. Da ensured this property stayed off the records. Tis no’ even under the Ward’s protection.”

  "Can't they just scry for our location?" Heather pipes up again.

  This is good. I’m getting to rest in bed and Hawke and Heather are asking all of the questions I have anyway.

  "No, it requires blood for that spell."

  "That's why they kept the pretense of the treaty! You sign in blood. They would have let you sign, and then turned on you. They may have even planned on allowing you to escape to lead them to Natalie. It was their safeguard in case she ran."

  “Aye, they—wait, Duncan? Silas? What are you—?”

  Shouting takes over the other room. Connor picks Liam and me up, pulling me close to him. I can feel his muscles tense in readiness.

  And it is then, that it all begins to make sense.

  When we’re children, we are taught that evil is monstrous. This is shown to us through TV, movies, and literature. There is never any confusion or possibility of mistake; evil is ugly and portrayed as such. Good, on the other hand, is pure and strong and beautiful, portrayed with soldiers, humans, and light colors.

  When we’re children, we are taught that evil is monstrous. When we are children, things are simple.

  The door bursts open, and Connor steps back, trapped by the weight of Liam and me. Silas, Piper’s father, stands in the door’s opening, his big, brutish body taking up all the space, so that I can’t see the fight I know is happening behind him. Animalistic snarls are rising, bodies hitting the walls, causing the cabin to shake.

  I can hear chanting, resounding through the room, seeming to come from everywhere at once. The walls begin to vibrate, the brown of the wood shifting to a reddish hue. The roof quivers above us, threatening to fly off its hinges.

  When we’re children, things are simple. We watch things like Power Rangers, where the villains are strange and hideous, oozing and scaly, while the Rangers are teenagers with perfect hair and skin. It always takes us by surprise when evil comes housed in a pretty or familiar package. We grow to realize that sometimes it’s the handsome, like Akim, those we underestimate, like the witches, and those we trust, like Silas and Duncan.

  Finally, we realize that
there’s not always a happily ever after. Sometimes, the bad guys win. Sometimes the good suffer and die.

  “It’s always been you. The two of you. Duncan never went on a mission.”

  Silas laughs, and it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh.

  “Gavin has always been too trusting. And weak.”

  The booming laugh dies down and pure hatred fills the big man’s expression.

  “He let too much go, talking of bucking tradition and allowing mates that are Other. He brought a human into our mix! He would dilute our race!”

  “Oh, God . . . You had Nolan killed.”

  “Ahh, that was a happy accident, human. My daughter fancied herself in love with that mix blooded mongrel, even though he was not her mate, and Gavin allowed it. He is soft to the core.”

  A yelp sounds from the other room.

  “A core that is easily exposed it seems.”

  I know the sound wasn’t Gavin, my mark assures me that he is safe for now, but Silas’ casual remark infuriates me all the same.

  One of Connor’s arms leaves my body, though he manages to support me with the other arm, hiding his movements from Silas. The sheet and blanket I’m wrapped in help to conceal it as well.

  “Now!” Connor whisper yells.

  Silas doesn’t even attempt to dodge out of the doorway, unconcerned with any defense we might launch. It’s terrifying, because that kind of confidence doesn’t just happen. That kind of confidence is inspired by plans that are foolproof, plans that are years in the making.

  When Connor swings me to the side, I’m ready, clutching Liam close. I know it’s fanciful thinking, but the baby almost seems to have an awareness of our dire situation, awake now, but not screaming his head off like I would expect.

  Connor pulls a knife with the same ease he maneuvers me. He throws it at Silas, but the giant manages to dodge so that instead of the blade lodging in his eye, it slices a wound into his cheek and along his ear.

  “Now, now, Connor. Join the winning team. Aren’t you tired of being the royals’ whipping boy? The faithful servant dies faithfully, you know.”

  “Run,” Connor yells as he pulls another knife.

  Silas is not cowed, his teeth showing through the blood dripping down his face.

  I drop the sheet and turn on my heel, racing for the hidden back exit. What only the inner few know is that this cabin is equipped with two back doors, one that is visible, and another that is smaller and covered from view by the trunk of a tree and strategically planted bushes.

  Some of my skin is scraped off by the brambles as I hunch through the doorway, but it’s nothing compared to what Silas, Duncan, and the witches have in mind.

  And not just them, because there is a gargoyle vamp perched in a tree on the other side, sucking gore from some woodland creature from his talons. I guess Akim hasn’t managed to tame their blood lust in the time since I last ran from them. I know that’ll work in my favor, but for only so long.

  All I can hear is chanting, howling, and screaming. The way the cabin is situated, my exit takes me behind everything, giving me a path out that doesn’t bring me close to any others. I know there’s a vehicle that’s parked not even a mile in this direction, waiting for me just in case. I also know that by myself, with a newborn, I don’t stand a chance.

  I run for fifteen minutes before I’m overtaken.

  “Natalie. Keep going.”

  As much as I’m happy to see Hawke, his is not the face that I’m desperate for.

  “Where’s Gavin?”

  “Keep going,” he repeats through gritted teeth.

  No.

  Not again. I did this, and I can’t do it again. I’ve waffled back and forth ever since the day I met Gavin over whether or not he should be in my life. But regardless of all of that, I can’t lose him again. I can’t continue to run, knowing that I’m dooming him to death.

  I stop, hearing the sounds of battle encroaching upon us. Hawke stops as well, and I can see the determination in his face. He’ll knock me out and drag me if he has to, but he’s committed to my escape.

  I struggle with the knowledge that I’ll need to let him go. I need to push Liam into Hawke’s arms.

  “Take him; save him,” I whisper those words, but my body tells a different story, my arms clutching the baby closer.

  “That’s not how this works.”

  But that’s how it has to be. If I leave Gavin to the mercy of the vampires, it won’t save Liam in the long run. They want a hybrid child for their new weapon, and Gavin can’t provide that by himself. They’ll use him as leverage to try and capture the rest of us. But if I get taken with Gavin, it could save Liam. They might let him go in favor of gaining a new child from Gavin and me. It’s not a perfect solution, but it grants us time. Even if only another six months.

  A sob escapes at that thought. The thought of bringing another defenseless baby into this dangerous world is heartbreaking! But if I don’t go with Gavin, they’ll continue to search for Liam and me, and Gavin will try to go out in a blaze of glory. I know him. He’ll take down as many vampires as possible, and himself in the process, to prevent them from gaining another child from us. If I allow myself to be captured with him, that’ll give Gavin a reason to continue to fight. It’s manipulative but I don’t have many options, and I’m running out of time.

  “Natalie! He will kill me for this,” Hawke hisses at me.

  “I’m sorry, Hawke. Please keep him safe.”

  With a will I wasn’t sure I had, I thrust Liam into Hawke’s arms and take off running. With his supernatural reflexes, he catches the baby easily, positioning him against his chest. He’s too fast, able to reach out with his other arm and grasp the edge of my robe. Fortunately for me, I anticipated just such a move, quickly shrugging out of the robe as I run, leaving Hawke holding the empty garment.

  “Natalie!” he shouts in a loud whisper, still trying to conceal our location from our enemy.

  Gargoyle vamps are monitoring above us, I wave my arms as I run to try and garner their attention. I can see through the trees that they hear something, even if they can’t quite discern what it is from their distance.

  Hawke has regained his senses and is gaining on me.

  I zigzag through the trees, trying to catch the gargoyle vamps’ attention. Hawke curses behind me, trying to keep up and shush the baby. It’s as if Liam can recognize I’m no longer holding him; he’s whimpering, making little noises.

  I catch a glimpse of Gavin, slumped between two vampires, his form limp, foot turned at an unnatural angle.

  “Gavin!” I yell.

  Gavin renews his fight in the vampires’ hold, but whatever they drugged him with, combined with the beating he’s already suffered, is too strong. I see him come to the realization I fear as I push out another burst of speed. He’s going to sacrifice himself to save us. Again.

  “Gavin!” I yell.

  I have no desire to conceal my presence. I want to be found.

  Behind me, I hear Hawke curse and hesitate, no longer pursuing me. I know he’ll do the right thing. He won’t let Liam be taken. He’s trustworthy, unlike Silas and Duncan—the traitors that got us into this mess.

  As Gavin struggles to slice his own throat with his claws, I scream out, ensuring I will be heard. For a moment, as I break through the trees, I see true, brilliant rage fill Gavin’s features, and for the first time it’s directed at me.

  Gavin snarls his fury at me, but it is cut short when the four vampires holding him deliver another injection. He slumps in their arms.

  I skid into the clearing on my knees, the impact tearing at my pajama pants and sending dirt flying. Akim turns away from my unconscious mate, grinning with evil enjoyment, his teeth dripping some innocent’s blood.

  “My, my . . . you’re eager for us, aren’t you? I’m eager as well. We are going to have such fun together.”

  I heave for breath, not bothering to stumble to my feet as my worst nightmare stares at me w
ith crimson eyes, one hand out in dubious invitation.

  “Welcome back, little human. Welcome back.”

  Dear Reader,

  It’s that time again, and I find it incredible that I’m here, for the third time! Yes, this signifies the end of my third novel, and no one could be more elated and surprised than I am.

  Once again, I’m writing this before actually finishing my novel, but I have hopes that doing so will result in greater motivation to continue on toward that gratifying finish.

  This story has been easy to write from the beginning. I think it’s because I needed a break from the Seren world, and Die by Night has provided that. Gavin and Natalie are not only from a different world than the characters in my Seren series, but their story is unique as well. They’re more intense, more passionate toward each other, while their struggles are just as wrenching. It’s made for an interesting ride. I knew when I started out that I didn’t want this to be another Seren novel with a different name and tagline; I wanted it to be its own. I hope I accomplished that.

  With Die by Night, I’ve discovered that each novel has its own inherent difficulties for the author. In Primal (my first novel), I struggled with how long to make the chapters, when to introduce certain characters, and what ending would be best. With Menacing, I did my best not to over think everything, but to ensure that Ana was a conundrum of emotions. I worried about the timing of everything, just as Ana does. And now, with Die by Night, I struggled to determine if Gavin and Natalie’s story can be told in one novel, or if they required two. I fought to push the story forward with a sensual connection between the characters, without pushing beyond the boundaries I’ve set for myself. I tried to showcase a new world, filled with new species, and a foreign hero with preconceived ideas seemingly set in stone.

  The greatest obstacle was when I lost my pet, Sadie, who was incredibly dear to me. For a time, I had no desire to write anything except loss and grief. Every word I wrote seemed to flare red from the page, angry and hurt, confused and aching. Most of those words didn’t fit this story, and will instead be repurposed into another, which only impeded my progress. I couldn’t see the good in anything anymore; I could only see my pain.