Immortal of Darkness

by Unknown

  “The name is Blackwin, ye daft arse. And we split everything," he said, glancing at Marsel.

  "Ah," Cain said. "And what's your specialty? I ken Marsel likes to cheat, swindle, and use the little magic he's capable of."

  "I like breakin' bones,” Blackwin said, grinding his fist into his palm.

  Before Cain had any idea what Blackwin planned, the brute rushed over and punched Cain in the nose, snapping his head back, laying him back out across the floor. Gwen squeaked. She quickly covered her mouth, but it was too late. Both men spun their heads, hungrily ogling her, realizing for the first time she occupied the room. Wicked grins crossed their faces. As she backed up, skirting the wall, Marsel, who was closest, reached out, snagging the front of her dress. She stumbled forward, straight into the arms of the large warrior. As she fought his hold, which roamed freely over her body, Cain began to stir.

  Cain slowly sat up, wiping the blood from his nose. Yes, being human sucked. He shook his head to clear his vision, instantly regretting the movement as a sharp pain rattled his head. He looked up, finding Marsel and Blackwin pawing at Gwen. As fury and possessiveness filled him, Cain rose, unsheathing his deadly sword.

  The noise caught both men’s attention. Marsel and Blackwin paused, smiling over at Cain. Both men glanced at each other and then began to laugh.

  Marsel narrowed his eyes at Cain. He elbowed Blackwin. "Lookie, he's still bleeding. Why aren't ye healing, Immortal?" Cain gritted his teeth. Marsel smiled a knowing grin. "I dinna think he's Immortal anymore," he said to Blackwin, who continued to stare at Cain. Marsel's smile turned devious. "Aye, I think I'll enjoy this fight."

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cain rose, dusting himself off. “I do believe, the last time we fought," Cain said smugly, "I left ye sniveling on the floor like a wee bairn. Immortal or no, I can still beat ye soundly."

  Marsel chuckled as he brought his large palm up over Gwen's stomach, stroking her like a kitty cat. Gwen kicked out furiously. Marsel grinned, satisfied with Cain's furious expression. “Mayhap, ye should have slit my throat all those years ago…but ye didna," Marsel said with a laugh. "We're here to bring ye back with us. There's a reward for ye."

  Cain raised his eye brows. Now, that bit of news was interesting. "Who's paying the reward?"

  Marsel smiled. "That's for me to ken." Marsel shrugged. "They would rather have ye alive if that's any consolation."

  Cain narrowed his eyes. Who would want him? Cain’s gaze drifted over to Gwen. The tears in her eyes looked precariously close to spilling over.

  Cain let out a sigh. He'd go willingly for now, if it meant keeping Gwen safe, but he would have his fight with Marsel. Cain dropped his sword to the ground raising his hands. “I’ll go without protesting, but the lass stays here."

  Blacwin smiled and reached out, running his thumb across her mouth. “Ah, I think she might be needed,” he said licking his lips crudely.

  “She stays or I kill ye now!” Cain said furiously.

  Both men glowered at Cain, their smiles fading. “Nay Cain, Ye’ll come and the lass, too." Marsel squeezed Gwen's arm harder.

  Cain strode forward, his dagger drawn. Blacwin stepped forward with a small stiletto that slid from his tunic sleeve into his hand. Meeting Cain in the middle of the room, they both slashed out at each other, crouching and weaving from the other's jabs. Blackwin was skilled with his dagger, but Cain was more proficient and faster in the art of knife fighting.

  “Get him,” Marsel snapped.

  “I'm trying," Blacwin gritted out. In that small moment of lost concentration, Cain struck out, slashing Blackwin across the chest.

  Marsel scooped Gwen up in his arms, making his own distraction for Cain. He covered her mouth with his in a wet, sloppy kiss.

  Cain roared and ran toward Marsel, while Blackwin remained kneeled down, holding his chest. At that moment, Marsel pulled out a dagger and held it to Gwen's throat, stopping Cain in his tracks.

  "Come any closer," Marsel sneered, "and I'll slice her bonnie head from her neck."

  Breathing hard, Cain flung the dagger into the floor at his feet and held up his empty hands. "Then let's go," Cain said dangerously soft.

  Blackwin rose and abruptly strode up to Cain, punching him soundly in the stomach. "That's for ruining my only good tunic!"

  Marsel belted out a rumble of laughter. “Aye, Blackwin, I do love this job.”

  * * * * *

  Cain slowly raised his head, the few inches he could. The two bastards had hogtied him around a horse, his hands and feet tied together at the mare's stomach. He strained his head to the left, trying to get a glimpse of Gwen, but the horse’s mane flapped in the way, blocking his view.

  He cursed under his breath. Why couldn’t Julianna have just left the page intact! Her daughter would be safe, he’d be immortal once more, and life would be much simpler. He pulled his wrists, but it was no use. He couldn't even cast a simple spell to free himself. He needed his hands free to do that, so he could harness the magic. Marsel had tied and triple knotted him so tightly he could hardly feel his hands. A cry from Gwen sounded up ahead. Cain clenched his jaw. Little did the bastards know, but they had signed their death warrants the moment they had barged into his room at the inn.

  Marsel gripped Gwen's chin cruelly with his rough, meaty hand. She wanted to pull the dagger out of his belt and sink it deep into his belly, but her hands were tightly bound.

  "Drink this my sweet," Marsel said, holding a small vial up to her mouth, while steering the horse with his legs. The sweet, fruity aroma wafted out from the vial and into her nose. Gwen held her mouth shut and tried to turn her head. "Blacwin!" Marsel shouted.

  Blacwin slowed his horse until he ambled along next to Marsel. "What do ye want!" he said impatiently.

  "Pinch her nose."

  Blackwin smirked, stopping his horse next to Marsel's. Gwen pushed off Marsel's lap, but his arm locked down around her waist. His other hand hovered close to her mouth with the vial.

  Blacwin reached over and squeezed her nose. They waited. "Och! I have a better idea," Blackwin said impatiently. He quickly brought his hand up and cruelly squeezed her breast through her dress. Gwen cried out and Marsel dumped the liquid down her throat.

  Gwen wanted to spit the drink out at first, but then the tasty liquid reached her stomach, instantly relaxing her. Warmth from the potion heated and caressed her all the way down to her toes.

  "What did you give me?" she asked, rounding on Marsel, punching at his chest as Blackwin snickered and rode ahead.

  "Ah, my sweet," Marsel began, "after that wee potion takes effect, you'll be mine for the plucking, and the best part is...you'll be begging me for more."

  Gwen spit in his face. "I will never beg for your touch...ever!"

  Marsel chuckled as he wiped the spit off his cheek with the sleeve of his tunic. "We will see, my sweet, we will see."

  Continuing on through dense woods, the afternoon sun stayed hidden behind clouds, chilling the summer air. Gwen shivered and quickly shifted as Marsel's erection pressed against her backside. Continuously, he apologized for "accidently" touching her. The fool must not have known how to make a potion, because she felt the same as before, warm and toasty inside. And besides, she still hated him, his touch being the last thing she'd ever want.

  Glancing back at Cain, her shoulders dropped. She couldn’t see him except for a rare glimpse of a blond head bouncing along the side of the horse. Tears filled her eyes. Oh, how she wished he had never fell through her roof, no matter how much she had ached and prayed to see him.

  She turned her head back to the muddy road ahead and abruptly screamed the same time the horses all reared. Blacwin flew off his horse and Gwen slammed back into Marsel’s hard chest as their horse sprung up. Cain’s mare skidded to a halt behind the others.

  There in front of them, stood a cloaked figure in the middle of the road. The black, dirty, hooded cloak covered the person completely. For
a second, Gwen thought death had come for them, but then a frail, knobby, aged hand rose and stuck out from the long sleeve. Rowena! The other hand rose as well and soon a fierce wind picked up around the riders. Debris and dust rose up around Gwen as she tried to keep a visual on Cain.

  She heard Marsel begin an incantation, but abruptly, he grabbed his mouth, or where his mouth should have been. His lips had vanished, only to be replaced by smooth skin. A silent scream escaped Gwen as she frantically jerked back and fell off the skittish horse.

  After scurrying away from the party, hiding behind a large maple tree, she discovered that the wind storm only encompassed the three horses. The rest of the area around them stay calm and peaceful with rays of sun piercing through spots of bare foliage to the forest floor. She glanced around for the cloaked figure, but it was nowhere to be seen. Rowena or not, she had to save Cain. Gwen scrambled to her feet and ran over to him. Attempt after attempt, she couldn't reach him without the horse rearing up, threatening to stomp her.

  Suddenly, a large roar sounded. Gwen spun around, squinting through the dust filled windstorm to find Blackwin being crushed by his horse. Within seconds, Marsel was thrown off his mount by an invisible force, landing to the ground, hitting his head. At that moment, Cain’s ropes unknotted themselves and fell away. He jumped off the mare, searching for Gwen. Grabbing her hand, they both sprinted away from the mad steed and its dangerous hooves.

  The wind died down and Cain stumbled over to where Marsel lay. He bent down to take back his satchel, and froze at the mouthless man. Cain scanned the area as he continued to crouch over Marsel. This was powerful magic indeed. Were they being helped, or being freed only to get captured by someone more dangerous? With no one around that he could see, Cain snatched back his sword and dagger. Without warning, Marsel’s eyes popped open. Thrusting out his arms, he wrapped his hands around Cain’s throat. Both men were equally matched in muscle. Cain pulled his arm back and brought his fist forcefully down to Marsel’s side. After repeating the punch three times, Marsel's eyes rolled back, and his hands fell away from Cain's throat. Cain glanced over his shoulder as Gwen ran over, and Marsel took his last opportunity for revenge, before succumbing to death. Cain sucked in a breath, turning his gaze of disbelief back down at Marsel. Cain knew that if Marsel had a mouth, he'd be smiling.

  "Hurry!" Gwen shouted from a few feet away, her gaze darting wildly from tree to tree.

  Cain nodded and then stared back down at Marsel’s dagger buried in the flesh of his stomach. Cain held his breath, yanking out the bloodied dagger. He gasped a few times before pulling his vest over the bloodied spot on his tunic. No need to upset Gwen. Gingerly rising, he concentrated on walking toward Gwen standing next to the least skittish horse.

  Gwen jumped up onto the steed's back and Cain, sucking in his breath, followed up behind her. He shook the reins and started down the opposite way they had been riding, trying to dismiss the excruciating pain in his stomach. In the future, he’d have to be more careful with his human body. He couldn’t take chances like he had done when immortal. Cain pulled Gwen closer, enclosing his arms around her. Picking up speed, they barreled down the muddy road.

  As they rode off, Gwen glanced back over Cain’s shoulder. Chills danced up her spine as she eyed the hooded figure staring after them. "No," Gwen mumbled to herself, "you can't have him Rowena!"

  * * * * *

  “Who were those men?” Gwen asked. "How did you know them? Cain?” He didn’t answer, only oddly slouched against her back. Gwen turned in her seat. “Cain!” she screamed, discovering his head lolled to the side with his eyes closed.

  Without a second thought, she grabbed the reins and pulled back, stopping the horse. As she slid down from the horse, Cain began to lean down toward her, slipping off the side of the horse. Gwen reached up, trying to hold his weight, but they both fell to the ground, with Cain landing on top. With all her strength, she gently rolled him off of her. Blood covered the entire front of her gown.

  "No, no, no!" she cried. Her gaze traveled from her blood covered hands to his stomach where the black tunic was drenched. She pushed the garment up. A sob escaped her. A perfect cut mark about two inches wide marred his stomach. Blood seeped out.

  “Help!” she yelled, pushing her hands on the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood. She glanced wildly around, for anyone's assistance. “Help!” she screamed again desperately. The horse neighed. It was the only other sound around them except for her sobs. She hadn't realized how far they had traveled in their frenzy to escape the scene from before. They were the only two souls on the road.

  Realizing she held Cain's life in her hands, she took a deep breath, focusing. She had to pull herself together. Gwen placed her fingers at the base of his neck and felt a very weak pulse. He was still alive, she just didn’t know for how much longer.

  She pushed her hair back with bloodied hands. How had this happened? Marsel. She knew they had fought, but the wind had been so thick and dark she hadn’t been able to see them that clearly, and then again, when they had fled the scene. Cain had seemed strong and fit. He hadn’t even told her he had been stabbed.

  Gwen frantically searched the immediate vicinity for useful items. She cried out. She didn’t know the first thing about suturing wounds…she was completely useless. Too bad Cain wasn't slightly aware, then he could cast the healing spell on himself again.

  That was it! Gwen dumped the books out from the satchel and found the small red one she needed. With shaking hands, she rapidly paged through, her bloody fingerprints leaving marks on the pages. Pausing, she watched Cain’s blood sizzle and hiss on the pages as it sunk into the book.

  Inhaling an unsteady breath, she’d think about the consequences later. All she knew, was that she wasn’t going to let him die. She had hurt him enough already. Flipping the page, a relieved laugh escaped her as she read the spell on healing. Saying a small prayer of thanks that Julianna had taught her Gaelic, she began reading the chant aloud. She pressed her hands onto Cain’s stomach, not sure if the spell would heal only her if she wasn’t touching Cain.

  Black wind erupted around them as she repeated the chant over, and over. Something inside of her moved, as if a door that had been closed, locked, and dead bolted, swung open. A bitter taste filled her mouth. One reminding her of decaying matter and death. She squeezed her eyes shut, continuing to speak.

  Abruptly, a jolt of power ran through her, exiting out her hands as if the magic knew she wanted the energy to exit there. The power arced into Cain’s body. She felt the injured flesh grow warm. Within seconds, the wound became too hot to touch. She jerked her hands away. The wind died down. Gwen slowly opened her eyes.

  Everything seemed normal and right once more. Gwen glanced down, staring in awe at Cain's perfect stomach. She smiled and giddily laughed. It had worked. She could cast a spell. Perhaps, she wasn't totally useless, after all. Cain's eyes fluttered open. He glanced over her way. Smiling, Gwen opened her mouth to tell him what happened, when her stomach heaved. Turning to the side, she began vomiting as a pain beyond anything she had ever known ripped through her. The inside of her wrist burned like hot flames, coming straight from hell, caressing her.

  “Gwen,” Cain yelled, pushing himself up, "what did ye do!" He placed his hand on her back knowing well and good what she had done. The open book lay on the forest floor next to her. As she heaved and grabbed her wrist, crying out in pain between fits of vomiting, Cain rubbed her back. Nothing he could do, would help now. The evil ran through her body, taking its course.

  Cain gritted his teeth, standing, with tight fists hanging at his sides. “Take me!” he roared to the sky. “Not her! The spell was for me. She did it for me!” He glanced back down when Gwen fell to her side in silence. Quickly kneeling down next to her, he moved her up onto his lap. “Gwen, speak to me, say something!”

  Gwen's eyes drifted open. Sweat drenched her hairline and her flushed cheeks. Cain tore off the arm of his tunic and dabbed her head
. Her breathing grew even and eventually she lifted her hand away from her wrist. Sobbing, she eyed the small, black, circular tattoo. Rope-like cords wrapped around a small demon face in an intricate design. The entire tattoo was no bigger than a half dollar. The branded skin glimmered for a moment, appearing nothing like a tattoo. Gwen screamed as the demon head sunk into her skin, disappearing beneath her flesh. After fading, the tattoo took on the appearance of a normal, dull, black tattoo.

  Holding out her arm, trying to get as far away from her wrist as possible, she scooted back against Cain's chest. “Make it go away,” she sobbed, as tears ran down her face. Without a doubt, she knew now, that whatever demon head had appeared on her skin was now inside of her. A little evil speck now marred her soul.

  “Shh,” Cain whispered against her hair. He enclosed his arm around her, lightly placing his hand over her newly created tattoo. Covering her wrist with his palm, he folded her arm into her body, keeping it close to her chest. “It will never remove itself,” he said quietly. Hearing her weep, he quickly added, “Shh, the pain is over now. The first time is always the worst.” He turned her face to look up at his. “Ye will never cast another spell,” he said tightly. “Do ye hear me? Ye’ll never cast a spell again, and especially not for me.”

  Gwen recognized the fear in his eyes. That emotion wasn’t for himself, but for her. He wouldn’t let her destroy herself for him. “You were dying,” she said softly.

  “Then let me die!” he roared.

  Gwen shook her head. Never.

  Cain grasped her chin so she wouldn’t turn her face from him. “Gwen, listen to me. I’m a bad mon. I dinna ken what ye think, but I have no good in me. If I’m meant to die, then so be it. There’s nothing left of me to save. I’m verra close to crossing over with 'them'. I ken what I am. I ruined one lass’s life because of black magic. I willna ruin another!"