Celtic Fire: Book One of the Guardian Series

by S Lawrence

  Dorran lets go of her head, and she screams at him until he backhands her hard across her face, stunning Aislin into silence. “Don’t worry. I’ll get back to you, my sweet girl.” Replacing her gag, he lets his eyes drift down. She struggles against her restraints, watching his head bend down toward her breast. Chris started yelling behind his gag, but it doesn’t stop Dorran from flicking her nipple with his tongue before biting down hard. She cries out from pain, sobbing as tears stream from her eyes. There is a satisfied gleam when his gaze returns to hers before he straightens and moves toward the druid.

  Fighting the ropes, Chris yanks against them, tightening them, unintentionally, realizing there is no give, as the bastard stalks towards him. His body swings like a pendulum. He knows the man is the operative from Sceach. Looking at him, he can see the madness that infects his mind. Mind racing, he looks for a solution. But even if he could talk to cast a spell, the strong wards would block it. If only I was more of a fighter, he thinks, like Sean or Michael, then he would be able to save them both. Instead he has always studied the lore, learning everything he could, to teach the others.

  Chris is lost in his thoughts when the first blow snaps his mind back to the room. The sound of flesh hitting flesh rings out in the room, grunts of pain, and the rhythmic creaking of the rope, in the pulley, as Chris’s body sways from the blows. The sound of ribs cracking was deafening. Chris was seeing spots by the time this sadistic bastard started to tire. Stepping away, he washes his hands in a basin of water before drying them, all the while he’s perusing her body. His gaze changing from hatred to lust in a split second. Even though the pain is coursing through the Druid’s body, he knows he has to try to do anything he can to keep him from her. Chris begins to struggle again. Dorran throws a wolfish smile over his shoulder as he moves to the side of the table, watching the other man fight makes him even more excited as he approaches.

  Why is he doing this? I don’t know how I even got here. She doesn’t remember anything after getting to the room. She is focusing on the questions in her mind, just to avoid the sounds coming from the other side of the room, but her body flinches with every impact. Her mind is snapped to the present, to the very second when she hears Chris scream in agony. Aislin doesn’t want to look, but she feels that she must. Frantically, she pulls. Even with the special rope, her skin is torn from the struggles.

  Time passes - hours turn to days - how many, she doesn’t even know. Her tears have long since dried. Detachedly, she wonders how long someone can go on beating another person. A thunderous silence fills the room and her body trembles in sickening anticipation. This has been the pattern for their time in this living nightmare. Neither Aislin nor Chris can remember the number of times the silence has preceded pain for each one of them. They look to each other, forever bound by the horrors both of them can feel and see. Eyes falling on Chris, she is horrified. She is amazed that he still continues to fight, his body is covered in bruises. So many that they are starting to blend together, various shades of purple, black and blue; depicting a gruesome timeline of their captivity. Her view is suddenly blocked by Dorran, his cock swollen, straining against the front of his pants, excited by whatever he is envisioning in his mind. She chokes on the revulsion that has her stomach churning. She flinches as he reaches down to unzip his pants, his member springing free. He is panting while he strokes himself, all the while roughly squeezing her breast roughly. Clenching her teeth, holding back a whimper, defying him the only way she can. She flinches when he pinches her nipple hard, ashamed how her body responds against her will. A satisfied gleam fills his deadened eyes, as he runs his fingers down over her flat stomach to the junction of her legs. It is smooth since he shaved her the first day, just one of many humiliations she is to suffer. Thrusting his fingers inside her, his breath quickens more at the wetness he finds. Her face burns in shame, Chris is yelling again as she turns her face away, unable to suffer this violation with him bearing witness. Dorran’s eyes are dark with lust, possession stamped onto his features, as he pumps his fingers into her mercilessly. His own hips are thrusting his shaft through the tight grip of his other hand.

  Suddenly, his hand is fisted in her hair, forcing her face toward his body. He has angled himself so that the Druid can see her degradation. Aislin clamps her mouth shut, reading the intent on his face. “Do you like what you see Druid? She has such a pretty mouth. It’ll look so nice with my cock in it, don’t you think?”

  Aislin is trying to pull her head away put his grip on her head tightens so much so that hair is pulled loose and she winces in pain. Chris is kicking his legs out, trying to break free. Dorran leans in close, an evil laugh bubbles out of his throat, right before he pinches her nose closed. “I’m going to teach you how to please me.”

  Soon, her heart pounding and lungs burning, she realizes he is going to wait her out. She gasps, her body betraying her again, as his hand leaves her hair and grabs her jaw, forcing it wider he shoves himself to the back of her throat, gagging her, making her eyes tear in pain and humiliation. Her eyes find Chris’s, and she watches him cry for her. Over and over he pushes in, each time hitting the back of her throat, at times, just holding himself deep, cutting off her air. His breath turns to gasps, and his thrusts become erratic. Suddenly, his hot semen is pumping down her throat. He held himself deep in her mouth forcing her to swallow everything that he gave her, reminding her that he was in control, not her. Pulling out of her sore mouth, he tucked himself away and pulled up the zipper of his pants.

  *********

  Oh, he wasn’t done with her yet.

  He likes the sounds of her choking, but he loves the look of shame on her face even more, as he reaches down to check her traitorous body and bathes his fingers in her wetness. Curling his fingers deep inside her, he caresses the bundle of nerves, drawing a response from her body. Pulling his fingers out, he brings them to his mouth, savoring the taste of her.

  He moves to the end of the table smiling, shoving her knees apart. He stares at her pussy, before leaning down and taking a long lick. Dorran flicks his eyes to the druid, relishing the helplessness that is etched on his face. Aislin tries in vain to close her legs, even though her rational mind knows the ropes hold them open, it only enrages him.

  His breath hisses out as he raises his head slightly to pin her with a dangerous glare. “I guess you still haven’t learned, have you? On to the next lesson then.” Dorran’s eyes turn hard, as he lowers his mouth back to her. Licking and biting, all the while thrusting his calloused and rough fingers relentlessly in her body until he felt her tighten around him, clamping down hard. Whimpers falling from her lips, as he forces an orgasm from a disloyal body. Still, he continues to lick, savoring the shuddering aftershocks, devouring a part of her soul.

  Satisfied for the moment, Dorran straightens from her, looking to the Druid as he licks his lips and listens to her whimpering. Dorran moves toward the door and says sarcastically, “You guys wait for me,” knowing they have no choice. His insane laughter can be heard even after the door closes behind him.

  **********

  Chris moans, trying to get Aislin to look at him. He wants to comfort her in any way that he can. She has turned her head away from him. He can see the all the bruises that mark her ivory skin. Vicious bites cover her most intimate places, and he feels shame at even bearing witness to the brutality of those attacks. He can feel his body crashing; adrenaline overload for days, along with no sleep, has his system trying to recover. His eyelids flutter, as he fights to stay conscious. Counting the rise and fall of her ribs, as she drags breaths in between sobs, gives him something to focus on. The gag is no longer in her mouth, but she doesn’t cry out for there is no one to hear their screams. From one moment to the next, that is all it takes for the Druid to slip away.

  ***********

  Sometime later, she has finally stopped sobbing. She lays there, staring vacantly into space, listening to the rhythmic breathing of Chris, thankful that he still live
s. That feels selfish to her - her need for him to share in this nightmare. She has no hope, for hope doesn’t live in a place like this. She holds her breath, as the door creaks open. HE comes in, carrying a large bowl and towels.

  “Darling. You’re filthy, so it’s time to get you cleaned up. That way, we can have some more fun later,” he says with a smile. She hears Chris come awake, moans slipping from around his gag. Their eyes meet, and she sees that his are filled with agony and sorrow. She can’t look away, for if she does, she will be forced to focus on the hands that roam over her body. His voice, this Dorran person, telling her how she will never get away. How she will be his forever, but first, he wants to know of Faolan. The father she has never met and now never will.

  “You are going to answer my questions. If you don’t, I will punish you. I might punish you anyway, just for my pleasure.” His smile shows how much he relishes the flinch that she can’t hide from him. She has been waiting for him to take the final step and the look on his face tells her that he knows that she waits for that final degradation. Him holding her body still, forcing his cock deep within her flesh. What she doesn’t understand is that it’s her fear that gives him the greatest pleasure and he has been building that fear and anticipation for the last three days. She whimpers, beginning to shiver when she sees the cane grasped in his hand. He wonders if she has had anyone strike her pale flesh before. In his mind's eye, he can imagine how beautiful, the bright red tint from the lashes will look against the alabaster of her skin.

  Growing up around the French Quarter, she is aware of what it is and what it is used for. His tongue licks first one nipple and then the other before it is replaced by the cane, the pain of impact makes her back bow. She keeps her eyes on Chris, embarrassed that he is seeing the assault, but needing that lifeline. Knowing her eyes are pleading for him to look away, while at the same time begging him for help. Her mind is screaming her denial as he forces his tongue deep into her mouth, shoving it so far in that it chokes. Still, her eyes are on Chris. They become aware of his rage when his fist grips her hair yanking her face to his, spit flies from his mouth as he screams, “Do you want him? Is that it? Why you can’t keep your eyes off him? Well, you belong only to me. I will use you to get everything that I want.”

  ********

  He unties the ropes from the foot of the table and flipping her over. This is not the first time he has turned her, but this time there is no touching just strike after strike of the cane until the pain is so great, darkness takes her. After spending some time with the druid, letting the blood run over his hands, Dorran is surprised he still struggles and finds great amusement in the hatred he sees in Chris’s eyes. Sliding the stiletto into his flesh, he can’t help but arch away, but he is starting to fight less and less, soon Dorran fears he will die, but he would love more time with him.

  A whisper of sound behind him alerts that his toy has woken and he smiles up at the druid, “I guess you get a reprieve.” The man frantically shakes his head; it’s sweet really. Loosening the knot that holds her hands, he grabs her hair and pulls back until it feels as if her neck might break. His glaring eyes are filled with anger, mixed with hunger. She shudders when she feels the cane stroke gently over the welts on her back and buttocks. She strains to move away.

  *********

  “Now, next question and you should pay attention for your own sake, because I will win either way.” It had taken just one question to realize that no matter the answer, the cane would fall. Her body was shaking uncontrollably; the pain was unbearable. Abruptly, he stops using the cane. He didn’t need it anymore for her body was covered with wounds that crisscrossed from her shoulders to the backs of her knees. This included her most private parts. She had thought she had no more tears left, but now they flowed freely. Teeth chattering, she wonders for the millionth time who this man was and why he wanted her father.

  She shudders as his fingers feather over her welts. She squeezes her eyes shut, heart pounding, Chris fighting again and yelling behind the gag. This was it, she thought. He was going to rape her; rape her in front of Chris. She thought she might recover from everything else, but not this. She couldn’t look at him, so she turns her head away. He begins to pull her down the table, so her legs were hanging off. They are shoved apart, and she can feel his breath on the inside of her thigh. When she jerks away, he bites down, leaving a mark that would bruise over the already broken skin. She gags when she feels his tongue lick the blood seeping from the cane mark. The sound of his zipper was deafening.

  An alarm suddenly goes off, red light flashes. Cursing, he jerks away. Laughing again, he tells them to stay put as he runs from the room, locking the door behind him. Sobs rack her body as she struggles for freedom. Yelling Chris’s name, she pulls and pulls, panting hard. She is exhausted. It had been days without water or sleep. Days of her adrenaline pumping and she could feel her body’s betrayal once again. Chris gurgles, and she could see the blood running from his mouth.

  “CHRIS!” She screams, her voice was hoarse from the days of crying and no water. “Please, Chris, just hold on. Please don’t leave me. You can’t leave me here alone.” She pulls on the restraints for the millionth time no longer feeling the pain of the ropes at her wrists and ankles, but she can feel the warm trickle of her blood.

  ‘Oh God, I am going to die here,’ she thinks. Shuddering, she knows, without a doubt, she’d rather die than be with this monster for the rest of her life. He’s insane, asking her how to get through a portal, saying Faolan will come for her. He wouldn’t listen when she told him she didn't even know Faolan. Aislin can’t stop crying and is pretty sure she’s starting to hyperventilate. The last thing she sees, before passing out, is Chris. She can’t hear him gurgling anymore.

  Chapter 23

  Michael is crouching behind a shipping container across from me. I can see him nod to me, letting me know it is clear to move forward. Patrick is somewhere behind us. He is working to bring the wards down, so our magic will work. It has taken us days to find them. The ship was so well warded, not to mention we had not looked on the water, searching for them on land first. We might have never found them if not for Kia and Faolan, who hasn’t been seen this side of the portal for fifteen years. Now we know why.

  I shudder, imagining the amount of torture he must have endured at the hands of the Order. Giving my head a quick shake to refocus on the task at hand, I move along the edge of the crate, staying to the shadows, my guns ready for my next target. Michael and I need no magic; we will kill with our hands tonight. I just hope we aren’t too late.

  Suddenly, automatic fire lights up the sky. Over the din of it, I hear maniacal laughter. Looking around the corner of the crate, I see the operative Jason had spotted in the pub. His hands are coated in blood, and he is only wearing pants. “YOU CAN'T HAVE HER! SHE IS MINE! MINE, DO YOU HEAR ME!” spittle flies from his mouth as he paces back and forth. Michael and I have our guns trained on him, he jerks our way, as he sees Faolan circling above us. Glee is stamped across his face. “Guardian,” he taunts. “Your daughter wears my mark. She cries out for my touch now. My hands and mouth have been over every inch of her glorious body.” He is hopping from foot to foot in joy.

  Faolan’s roar deafens us. I curl inward, the ship rocks as the massive dragon lands on the deck. Shots ring out from above us, as other members of the order join the fight. They now have the advantage of numbers. Pinning us down, we’re outnumbered, and mayhem ensues as we try to gain entry to the lower decks. The mighty dragon is dripping blood from multiple wounds, shielding us with his massive body. Screaming over the sounds of war, I warn him to move. I notice his eyes quartering the boat and I realize that the madman has disappeared in the chaos of the battle.

  Kai is making his way to us and is obviously trying to get his friend out of the line of fire. I have to brace myself as the wind from the beating of wings, threatens to blow me off the deck. I’m always awed at the beasts in flight. Michael’s shout to move is all
that saves me from a bullet to the brain, as I jerk from the wood splintering into my neck, but I guess that’s better than a bullet.

  Refocusing on the shooters, I place the scope of my sniper rifle to my eye and slow my breathing, trusting Michael to keep the rest of them off me. I zero in on the shooters above us, the ones that have us pinned down. I’m chambering my next round before he even realizes he’s dead. The next shot spins the shooter around before he hits the deck. Raising my hand, I motion Michael forward. Faolan is flying a pattern, circling out. It doesn’t take long for us to clear the other shooters, we leave no one alive.

  It is eerily quiet now, nothing moving except the dragon flying over us, head swinging side to side in agitation. I don’t move, and neither does Michael for we know the dangers of a Guardian who is out of control. Kia is suddenly striding between us, eyes focused on Faolan.

  *********

  ‘Faolan, my friend, you must calm down. He is gone, but we will find him, the others have been killed. The druids must get below and search for Aislin and Chris.’ I try to reach past the haze to the man, but I fear he has lost too much. I decide to approach it a different way. ‘She is here, but she has been hurt in ways we can’t imagine. Let them get her so we can save her. Let us get your daughter.’

  Massive wings flap and the wind blows me back, as he turns from the ship. ‘Bring her to me Kia, bring my girl to the Isle. Save her. Protect her like she should have been protected before.’ Guilt slams into me. I have let my friend down in so many ways.