Rules Of Darkness

by Tia Fanning

  “Please do not make excuses for her actions.”

  The farmer looked away. “I also know your people are proud, and even if I offered, would not have taken the animals as a gift from me. Your people have always been honorable, only accepting fair trade for services rendered. But these days, your numbers have dwindled and your young people have left you. They are no longer here to help out on the farms and to support the village like in the days of my father, my grandfather, and back through the generations.”

  Great-grandmother simply nodded.

  The farmer pressed on, “I only came because I fear for Katia’s safety. The other farms she has visited, the owners are new, unfamiliar with the ways of your people. They are not so understanding. They know someone is stealing from them. I worry she will one day be caught by them and suffer greatly… be arrested or worse.

  “I will deal with my great-granddaughter accordingly, as befitting the laws of my people. She will not steal from you or anyone else again.”

  “Please do not punish Katia. I was hoping I could gain your permission to have her work for me, as her mother once did. I am sure I can find some task on the farm befitting a young lady her age. Having only sons, my wife greatly misses having a young girl around to dote on, and she often speaks of your granddaughter. It broke her heart when Anya passed away.”

  My great-grandma gave a soft smile. “I am humbled by your offer, more so knowing Katia’s transgressions. But Katia is not allowed to leave the area around the village, though it seems she has been wandering far without my knowledge. My great-granddaughter is special to our people, and must stay near for her own safety. But I will always remember the kindness you showed my young Anya, and just know that my granddaughter loved you and your wife as a child loves their parents. And she loved your sons like brothers.”

  The farmer’s expression turned solemn. “I understand, Elder Marija. If you should change your mind, the offer is always open.” He bowed his head, gave young Katia a regretful look, mumbled a ‘good day’, and then made his way to back to his horse.

  When the farmer departed, my great-grandma turned and smacked my young self in the face. “You have shamed me beyond words. Go inside and wait until I call you out.”

  As I watched fifteen year-old Katia trudge into the shack that was her home, guilty tears streaming from her eyes, I tried to remember what I was thinking at that moment.

  I remember being scared at what punishment would come my way. I also remember being angry for getting myself caught again. The situation the elders put us in, instilling this stringent sense of honor and pride, not allowing us to accept help or gifts from outsiders, was simply too much for a child to deal with.

  The food had been meager for months, and the elders often went without in order for the remaining villagers to be sustained. The elders always managed to find a small rabbit and some potatoes so that I would have a nutritious meal.

  I also believed if we had more food, my great-grandma would not be so weak and sickly, plagued by a cough that only seemed to get better when she had adequate, healthy food to eat.

  Once young Katia was in the house, I followed my great-grandma to Hammu’s home. When she knocked on the door, he came out, Stoyan following close behind.

  “Elder Hammu. My great-granddaughter has acted shamefully, and broke the laws of our people. She is to be punished. As she has no father other than Stylianos, who is not here, her punishment falls to you as the closest father-like male to her.”

  Hammu blinked, obviously shocked. “What has she done?”

  My great-grandma explained all that the farmer had said.

  “Marija, you would have me bring a whip down upon your great-granddaughter’s back? Please, do not ask this of me.”

  My great-grandma nodded, moisture gathering in her eyes. “Yes, it is our way. She must learn. She is a young girl, so three lashes is all our law requires for her.”

  “As an elder of the village, you have the authority to proclaim punishment. This is a most severe penalty for theft. Surly, a lesser punishment would suffice.

  “If you will not do it, then I will ask another,” she replied.

  Stoyan stepped up, his shoulders squared and his head held high. “I will take her punishment.”

  My great-grandma shook her head. “It is not allowed. Only her husband can take her punishment. Though you are my great-grandson, the marriage ceremony has not taken place.”

  “I am her protector. By law, it is allowed. You know this to be true, Elder Marija. Yet, you would try to deny me? I respectfully ask you why?”

  Tears poured from great-grandma’s eyes. “Oh, Stoyan. Will you always be so kind? Will you always be so understanding when her foolish behavior brings dire consequences? Will you always protect and defend Katia as you do in this moment, no matter what fate brings between you two?”

  Stoyan fell to his knees and bowed his head. “Yes, Elder Marija. I love her. I will care for her and protect her always. I will give my life for hers if I must. I swear this to you, great-grandmother.”

  Holy shit!

  My great-grandma placed her hand on his head and gave him her blessing.

  I about died. For one, Stoyan’s declaration reminded me of some oath-spouting knight from my historical romance novels. Two, I never knew the penalty for stealing was so harsh. My great-grandma never said, she just told me that Stoyan took my punishment. Three lashes? With a whip? Damn, I had just assumed he got paddled like I usually did for the other child-like offenses I committed.

  Stoyan rose to his feet and followed Hammu and my great-grandma to the small stable. As Stoyan removed his shirt, Hammu retrieved the whip.

  My great-grandma spoke. “I will get Katia now, so she may witness the pain you bear for her.”

  Stoyan lifted his arms and allowed Hammu to tie his hands to a wood post. “Please, Elder Marija, I would not have her see this. I do not wish to have her upset. In many ways, she is still a child. I am sure she did not understand the consequences of her actions. In her heart, she must have had good reason for doing what she did.”

  “It is true that my Katia lets her heart rule her actions. But without this lesson, how will she ever grow to learn about consequences and taking responsibility for ones actions?”

  “If, and when, the need arises, Elder Marija, I vow to guide her and stand beside her.”

  My great-grandma let out a heavy breath. “I will honor your request, but I fear, one day in the future, you and Katia might come to regret this decision.”

  Hammu stepped back and unfurled the leather coil. “I will try not to leave scars, but I would be lying if I said this would not hurt.

  Stoyan nodded.

  I closed my eyes, but the sound of the cracking whip tore through me all the same.

  * * * *

  I opened my eyes in time to see lightening piercing the sky. I squinted through the pouring rain, trying to remember where I was.

  Stoyan!

  I shot up and saw his naked body lying on the road only a few feet away. There was blood everywhere.

  “Stoyan!”

  I crawled over to him. The storm raged on, the rain blinding, my hair falling into my eyes, my shoes slipping on the waterlogged road, and my clothes soaked and tangling around me like a sodden straight jacket.

  Stoyan’s skin was cold to the touch, but he was still breathing. Water diluted the blood that oozed from the many wounds covering his body.

  “Stoyan! Wake up! Wake up!”

  No response.

  What could I do? I didn’t own a cell phone, which left me unable to call 911. But I had to get him to the hospital. He was bleeding to death before my eyes.

  Grabbing his arms, I tried lifting him up, praying that adrenaline would give me the strength I needed to get him off the ground and into the car. But he was too heavy.

  It could be hours before someone drove down this highway, and I couldn’t leave him in the cold rain to wait. If I had a blanket, I could roll him on it
and pull him to the car.

  I ran to the Mercedes, and popped the trunk. It was empty. No blanket, no first aid kit.

  I sprinted back. I would have to drag him across the pavement.

  I maneuvered his arms above his head and started to tug with all my might. I’d moved him maybe two inches when my fingers slipped and I fell back, landing on my ass hard enough to rattle my teeth.

  Back on my feet, I tried again. But no matter how hard I worked, I could not get a good grip on his slick skin. I could not get him to move.

  Screaming in frustration, I collapsed on the ground, sobbing pitifully. “Stoyan, please wake up. I can’t do this. I can’t save you. Just wake up,” I pleaded.

  All of this was my fault. For so many years, I had been so caught up in my own pain; I never saw the impact my actions had on others.

  Had I always been so blind? Had I been this selfish my whole life?

  I failed Stoyan tonight, as I did twelve years ago. Even though I loved him, I couldn’t find the courage to trust in him, even when he had done nothing but right by me. And here he was, dying in my arms, dying because of me, dying because he tried to protect me. Once more, he suffered the dire consequences of my foolish behavior.

  If I had just followed the rules, none of this would’ve happened.

  God, how many people have I let down in my life? Perhaps all those times I’d refused to use my gift? Refusing to heal the lost that had come to me? How many people in my life had died because I wouldn’t acknowledge my gift?

  Even on this night, my irresponsibility knew no bounds. Poor Jackie. What if her guide had not been powerful enough to stop the onslaught of the fallen? What if they had not only killed me, but had killed her as well?

  Tears streamed in a torrent down my cheeks. I cried harder than I had ever cried before. I moved to his side and bent over him, laying my head on his chest.

  “Stoyan, don’t die on me. Don’t leave me in this world alone… I need you.”

  A hand brushed against my head. “I am here, my love.”

  I rose up, my hands grasping his shoulders. “Stoyan, Stoyan! I’m sorry—sorry—this is my fault—must get you to the hospital. I should’ve just—if I would’ve liste—”

  “Shh, Katia. I am well. No hospital…need… rest… home in bed. No more. Do not cry.” His eyes fluttered closed again.

  No!

  I tugged on his arm. “Don’t go back to sleep! You have to get up. I will not stop crying until you’re up and in the car.”

  He didn’t respond.

  I started shaking him. “Get up! Damn it, I love you! If you love me, if you’ve ever loved me, you’ll get up right now!”

  Chapter Nine

  By the time I turned into my driveway, the inside of the car was steamy. I had the heater on full blast the whole ride home, wanting to banish the chill that shook Stoyan’s body when we first got on the road.

  Putting the Mercedes in park, I turned off the engine and glanced over at Stoyan. Sleeping in the passenger seat, he looked peaceful, almost boyish. I hated the thought of waking him up.

  Leaning over, I softly caressed his cheek, pleased to find him warm, but not feverish. His color was returning to normal, and miraculously, his wounds had healed some.

  Was this why he didn’t want me to take him to the hospital? Because he heals so fast? Was this what it was to be a shifter?

  At first, I almost took him to the emergency room, despite his request not to go. I thought he was trying to protect me, hospitals being unsettled places by nature, full of dying people and restless spirits. But after he helped me lead him off the road and into the car, he had made me promise to go straight home.

  I wanted to trust him. I wanted to keep my promise to him. I wanted to be a good wife. So, against my better judgment, I did as he asked.

  “Stoyan? Wake up, honey. We’re home.”

  He slowly opened his eyes. “Thank you for listening to me.”

  I nodded. “You’re healing quickly. Is this because you are a shifter? A werewolf?”

  “Not a werewolf. I can shift shape…with magic.”

  I frowned. “Why didn’t you use magic to kill the other shifter? Why did you fight him to the death?”

  Stoyan shook his head. “Not to the death, did not want to kill him… the wolf is still a human. I fought to win you, to make him leave the area.”

  Figuring that all this talking was probably using up energy he needed for healing, I ended the discussion and exited the car. I would have to wait until later to satisfy my curiosity.

  Helping Stoyan out, I walked him into the house and straight to the bedroom.

  Guiding him into the bed, I covered him with the comforter and turned off the light. Sitting by his side, I lightly stroked his hair until his steady breathing assured me he was asleep again.

  I was exhausted. I wanted so much to curl up next to Stoyan and join him in blissful slumber, but before I could, there was a matter of hygiene to attend to. After all, aside from the blood, I had been peed on.

  I headed for the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

  After my shower, I put on my robe and went to check on Stoyan again. I placed my hand under the comforter, laying my palm over his heart. The beat was strong and steady, and his chest rose and fell with even breaths. I let out a soft sigh of relief. He was alive and well, still sleeping… naked… in my bed.

  Stoyan. My husband. The man I love.

  Naked.

  Alone.

  In my bed.

  The prospect of lying down got so much better.

  However, instead of crawling under the blankets right then, which is what any sane woman would have at such a moment, I left the bedroom and went into the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate.

  I may have been dead tired, but I never go to bed with wet hair. I hated sleeping on a damp pillow. Usually, I would use the blow dryer, but I didn’t want to risk waking Stoyan up.

  While waiting for the water to boil, Charlie made an appearance. After looking out the back door to make sure there was no ghost kid hanging around, I let Charlie out to go potty.

  “Don’t wander too far,” I whispered, closing and relocking the door.

  With the cocoa in hand, I headed to the library to search for a good novel to read, something to occupy my time until my hair dried.

  Flipping on my reading lamp, my fingers roamed over the bindings of my favorite books. Silencing Sarah, The Curse, Lady in White, The Last Celtic Witch…

  “Ah, here we go.” I pulled Eyes of the Dead off the bookshelf and settled into the comfy loveseat.

  * * * *

  Someone was in the room with me. Even in my deep, dreamless sleep, I could feel his presence.

  It was Stoyan. I knew it before I opened my eyes.

  He stood before my bookshelf, wearing only a short towel around his waist. Freshly showered, his hair was slicked back and his skin glittered with moisture. Damn, he looked yummy, like something off the cover of a magazine.

  As he scanned over the books, I noticed that all the scratches and bites on his skin had faded into nothing but faint red marks.

  Could we make things work between us? Could we really have a life together?

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” I said.

  Stoyan turned and smiled. “I am. Thank you. I apologize if I woke you.”

  I shook my head slightly. “No, no, it’s fine. I guess I fell asleep reading.”

  “I know. I checked on you earlier, before I took a shower.”

  “Um, your wounds are almost completely healed. Since you were bitten by a shifter, does that mean you’ll turn into a werewolf next month?”

  Shit! Could I have been more blunt?

  Thankfully, Stoyan didn’t seem offended or worried. “Protectors are not able to get the moon madness. I believe it is something in our blood, a benefit of our gift. So no, I will not change.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  He pulled A Werewolf Named Bun
ny off the shelf. He smiled, his eyebrow rising in silent question.

  I bit my bottom lip. “The werewolf in that book is nothing like the werewolves we know.”

  Stoyan put A Werewolf Named Bunny back and pulled out Vampires 101. Turning the book over, he read the description, then rolled his eyes.

  I giggled. His expression was too much. It was that manly ‘how can you women read this romance stuff?’ look.

  “This has an interesting title,” he remarked as he took Wish Me Up, Rub Me Down off the shelf.

  “That’s a story about two Djinn and one lucky woman,” I explained, laughing and blushing at the same time.

  “Really?” Stoyan opened the book and scanned one of the pages.

  He must have stumbled onto one of the hotter scenes, because his eyes grew wide. Then, he looked over at me like I’d grown two heads.

  I was laughing so hard I could barley breathe. “What?” I asked innocently. “I told you I read naughty books.”

  “A virgin, but not innocent… yes, I remember,” he said slowly, his gaze turning heated.

  I felt my cheeks burn as I recalled the exact moment I told him such a thing. My laughter subsided as moisture pooled between my legs. I bit my bottom lip to quell my whimper and pressed my thighs tightly together, hoping to hide the desire building inside me.

  Stoyan returned Wish Me Up, Rub Me Down to the bookshelf. “Tell me about the book you’re reading.”

  I swallowed hard, looking down at the book in my lap. “You want to know about Eyes of the Dead?”

  Why did he want to know?

  My heart thumped wildly as I watched him approach the . My stomach somersaulted when he sat down next to me, leaving no space between us.

  “Yes,” he replied, his voice deep, husky.

  It took a moment for my thoughts to collect. After all, I had a man, whose towel had stretched open to expose his muscular thighs, sitting next to me. And here I was, aroused, with nothing but a robe to shield my wet pussy.

  “It’s a story about a man named Antonio and a woman named Tiffany who fall in love during an adventure through the Mayan jungle.”