Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel

by Alisha Ashton

  That knowledge brought Taran peace. He allowed his last thoughts to be of the bliss he had experienced for such a fleeting time. He recalled her smiling face, the sound of her laughter, and the taste of her lips. She was there in his arms, love for him shining brightly in her eyes as he caressed her cheek with his hand.

  And as the darkness finally claimed him, he sent his love to her with all of his heart.

  44: Sensation of Separation

  “Taran?” Skye murmured in confusion, sensing his presence.

  “Time to wake, wee one,” he whispered.

  His familiar words echoed through her mind. She could almost feel his warm breath on her ear, his arms around her as he held her close.

  “Skye, love... ya must wake now,” he insisted.

  She could sense a rift growing between them... a chasm opening... a vast void that she would never be able to cross. She fought to remain with him – but he was leaving her. She could feel him go, like sleep abandoning you before a pleasant dream has finished.

  Despite her best efforts to follow him, she returned to consciousness.

  She immediately coughed and gagged as gasoline fumes and smoke filled her lungs. Her eyes focused as best they could, only to find that she was surrounded by fire and broken glass. All that remained of the vehicle was twisted metal, bearing down around her like a cage. Her equilibrium was off, leaving her to decide in disorientation whether it was her body or the entire car that was lying sideways.

  Struggling to move within the confined space, she whimpered as she felt her body frantically working to mend burnt flesh and broken bones. Blood that had been covering the side of her face was now seeping back into an open wound at her temple. With panic gripping her, she realized that – had she still been mortal – this would have been her final resting place.

  Miko...

  As tightly as she was pinned, there was barely enough room to turn her head to the side. When she did manage to crane her neck slightly, she found that she could not see the rest of the vehicle. In the crash, she had somehow been tossed into the front seat. Large sections of twisted metal and debris separated her from the rear section. The vehicle was crushed too severely to attempt to reach him...

  Or what remained of him.

  Though still dazed from the impact that had caused her current position, the memory of what was responsible for the wreck returned to her. She knew that if she stayed where she was for much longer the fògaraich would descend upon her to finish the job. With every bit of strength she could summon, she tried to move.

  Her attempt only brought on shrieks of unanticipated anguish and the realization that she could not save herself from this. All hopes of escape were blocked. The roof had caved in on the dashboard, blocking the space where the windshield should have been. The opening for the shattered window on her side, now crushed to half its previous size, revealed only grass and earth instead of night air. She groped at it weakly, her chin trembling as she fought back a sob.

  Drawing a terrified breath, she found the cause of the pain that was radiating through her upper body. A large piece of metal, possibly part of the vehicle’s frame, had pierced her chest. It had passed right through her, becoming lodged in the seat at her back.

  “No... please no,” she sobbed as she reached for it with shaky hands. Closing her eyes and trying to draw a steadying breath, she gripped the metal and attempted to remove it. She shrieked through gritted teeth as her efforts only brought on more pain.

  Gasping for air, she pressed her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She was too wounded. She was not strong enough to dislodge the metal that had been driven through her. Tears streamed down her face as she began to hyperventilate, looking around herself helplessly. She was trapped here, unable to die from her injuries...

  But the fògaraich screeching nearby would be more than happy to assist.

  The faoil were not far from the swarm now. You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. Emotions were running high among the men. Fear, pride, rage, and relief surged through them all. After so many centuries spent powerless to stop the plague of the fògaraich from spreading around the globe, they were finally going to put an end to it.

  The hearts of the thousands of beasts in the forests to each side of the road hammered as one. Their fur was as black as the night sky above. Their eyes shined brightly with the moonlight beaming down upon them.

  Like a wave of terror and muscle and intent, they flooded the heavily wooded terrain.

  Massive paws raced unrelentingly across the ground like rolling thunder. All moved together toward one purpose, one goal. Without hesitation, they bounded over the ancient, towering rock formations that dotted the landscape. Any one of them would have barred a mortal’s path.

  They were united by blood, by bite, by clan, by brotherhood. They were joined in this effort.

  Due to the intensity of this single-minded state, the out of place and sudden screams of anguish amidst their ranks drew immediate notice.

  Ciaran cried out and collapsed to his knees. His body shifted back to human form before he had even reached the ground. That same dizzying pain was back in his chest, overtaking his senses completely. But he was thankful for it this time. It meant Skye was still alive.

  Despite the hands that gripped his shoulders and shook him, despite the voices that asked panicked questions, he refused to open his eyes. He could feel her again. He could almost see her. He sensed her overwhelming fear and pain as if they were his own. He searched these unfamiliar sensations, desperately pressed on further into their connection.

  “Come on, give me something, a stóirín,” he whispered to her pleadingly.

  And in addition to her emotions and pain, he finally received precisely what he needed – a clue to her location. The smoke was so thick that it nearly choked him. He felt the heat of the flames closing in around her.

  “Fire,” he mumbled and struggled to open his eyes.

  “Get him up,” he heard Eògan urging.

  Aodh gripped him under his arms and helped him to his feet. The giant watched him worriedly, holding him upright as he tried to regain his own senses and let go of Skye’s.

  “Fire! ” He repeated in a shaky, yet more forceful voice as he fought to focus on his surroundings.

  “Aye, we heard ya the first time,” Eògan assured before muttering, “Still have nah a clue what you’re havering on aboot, but we heard ya, just the same.”

  “Tha’s why the fògaraich have nah been able to reach her!” Ciaran insisted with his voice finally sounding steady. “She’s frightened and in a great deal of pain, but she’s alive. Wherever she’s trapped is surrounded by flames. They can nah get to her.”

  “All right, then. Fire it is,” Eògan agreed. “Now, have ya your sea legs back yet so we can be on our way to rescue the ornery wee damsel?”

  “I’m ready,” Ciaran assured determinedly and shifted back to his faol form. He inhaled deeply, a growl rumbling in his throat as he caught scent of the smoke in the distance.

  “Wait,” Drostan urged between ragged breaths on the other side of the road, quickly coming to a stop and gripping Elijah’s shoulder.

  “Lord Drostan?” Onchu asked worriedly as he leaned forward onto his knees and fought to catch his breath. “Why are we stopping? She has to be nearby –”

  “Just wait,” Drostan insisted as he held up a hand and pointed ahead of them. “Push your senses in tha direction and tell me what ya can feel.”

  Elijah squinted and frowned, inhaling deeply through his nostrils and appraising what his many senses were telling him. “There are mortals down there,” he answered in surprise. “A lot of them... several hundred, at least.”

  “Aye, there are mortals down there, wean,” Drostan agreed breathlessly, nodding as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Along with many of our kind,” he added, giving them a meaningful look.

  “The refuges? The Ashers and their children?” Onchu asked.

 
; “Afraid so,” Drostan agreed. “And they’ve pulled o’er to the side of the road. I’d wager they’ve just spotted the fògaraich.”

  “They’re just going to try to find another way to the castle if they back out,” Onchu breathed in realization. “They’ll be heading straight out the frying pan and into the fire.”

  “Precisely the reason I made ya both stop. All right, let’s follow the edge of the tree line until we come upon the leading vehicle. Stick close behind me – we’ve got to reach them fast,” Drostan ordered before transforming again and breaking into a run.

  “All aboard,” Onchu said with a smirk before shifting forms.

  “Damned if you ain’t about the ugliest thing I’ve ever saddled,” Elijah teased as he climbed up onto the elder faol’s back.

  Drostan did not return to human form before breaking the tree line. He figured for the mortals, seeing him in faol form would keep them for mistaking him for a fògarach. They knew they were here to seek refuge from the clan.

  “Lord Drostan, what’s happened?” Donnach asked, climbing out of his SUV when he saw the approaching beast.

  Drostan shifted forms without breaking stride. “Trouble up ahead, in case ya hadn’t noticed. Trouble at the castle, as well, I’m afraid.”

  “Fook me, they’re at Faol Seunta, too? What are we to do with all these wee buggers then? Got close to a hundred tikes here,” Donnach said. He ran a hand over his head worriedly as his eyes wandered down the long line of cars.

  “We’ll have to sneak them onto the grounds. Take them to the ruins at the cliff. If worse comes to worst, perhaps ya can lure the fògaraich toward the trees and let the ainmhidh deal with them,” Drostan answered.

  “But tha’s nah all the ainmhidh would deal with,” Donnach whispered fearfully. “And I do nah think any of us could put one down.”

  “I’m afraid it’s our best option at the moment,” Drostan told him with a weary sigh. “The fògaraich seem to be focused on two things – the castle and Skye. If ya are careful nah to draw their notice, maybe ya can avoid confronting them at all.”

  “Skye... ? They’ve gone after Skye?” Donnach asked in astonishment. “Where’s she at?”

  Drostan opened his mouth to answer, but Onchu’s call came first.

  “Oi, Donnach. How many kiddies ya got in the lot?” Onchu asked worriedly once he had transformed back to human form and approached with Elijah.

  “Too damned many to be dealing with all this drama tonight, tha’s for sure,” he answered before smirking and inclining his head to Drostan and Onchu’s lack of clothing. “And I’d be willing to bet, seeing so many of our kind’s bare arses won’t be helping with the trauma they’ve already sustained.”

  “And here I thought this was just part of the scenery in Scotland,” Aiyana teased as she walked up the line of cars. “Drostan,” she greeted with a smile. “Nice to see you.”

  “Aye – nice to be seen, love,” he laughed and shook her hand, finding it infinitely amusing that she did not let their nudity prevent her from approaching.

  “So, what’s the deal with the fògaraich? I thought they would have come after us by now. We’re only what, a hundred yards away?” She observed. “Not that I mind the distraction, but what’s more appealing to them than a bunch of terrified kids?”

  Drostan winced at the answer to that question. Mercifully, the outspoken pup saved him from having to tell her.

  “They’ve got Skye and Miko pinned down up there. We’re out here trying to find them,” Elijah said, sounding a bit impatient to return to the search.

  Seeing the concern in his eyes, Aiyana paused and studied his features. “You know her, don’t you?”

  “I’ve known her since she was born. Finally got the chance to catch up with her again after a decade and now these undead bastards are trying to take her away again,” Elijah seethed.

  “I’ll help look for them,” Aiyana stated as she pulled the crossbow from her back and began loading it.

  Elijah looked at her in surprise.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said reluctantly.

  “I don’t remember asking,” she fired back as she hooked grenades to her belt. “You need to find Skye, right?” She asked, and waited for him to nod. “Well, I need to find Miko. I’ve got quite a few years invested in that little punk and I’m not about to let anything happen to him. Besides, Skye is my girl. If I gotta kick some undead ass to help her out, so be it,” she declared as she cocked her crossbow.

  When she turned to select a handful of her men for a search party, Drostan gave Elijah a lopsided grin.

  “I do believe ya’ve just been told,” he offered. “All right, Donnach, take the tikes in through the back way to the ruins. Take care nah to be seen. We do nah want the locals or the fògaraich knowing aboot the other entrance, d’ya understand? We’ve managed to keep it hidden for this long – don’t ya go screwing it up now.”

  “Aye, Lord Drostan,” Donnach agreed and clasped Drostan’s arm with his own. “Ya have my word, I’ll take care. The rest of ya do the same – I’ll nah be hearing aboot the loss of any of my clansmen tonight. And get to Skye in time, damn it. She may be a crazy wee thing, but any woman able to put me down as she did is okay in my book.”

  “Aye, we’ll get to her just as soon as we leave here,” Drostan assured.

  “Suit up and strap on as many weapons as you can carry!” Aiyana ordered as her men opened cases and loaded up. “We stay close and we stay alert. Any sign of Miko or Skye, I want a perimeter set up to secure the location while we investigate.”

  “Quite the enforcer, isn’t she?” Drostan mused. “No wonder Miko’s holding out for her.”

  Aiyana faltered slightly in her commands when those words reached her ears.

  45: Please...

  “But it’s not time yet,” Skye whispered as she closed her eyes and wept silently.

  How could this be happening to her now? She had found peace, a family, and two men that she loved deeply. Now she was going to die alone. Why was it always her fate to lose it all?

  A startled cry escaped her when the wreckage that imprisoned her rocked in place.

  Something is out there, she realized in horror as her eyes opened wide. Something is trying to reach me.

  She sobbed and looked around frantically for a weapon, but she already knew that she would not be able to defend herself. Maybe if she had been given more time to heal from her injuries, but it was too soon...

  She shrieked as – once again – the wreckage rocked.

  This time, the vehicle was lifted and pushed with enough might to force it upright.

  As her body rapidly changed position along with the SUV, the pain of the shrapnel in her chest became so severe that it nearly stole her consciousness.

  There was not even enough time to be afraid before she caught sight of movement through the broken window. She did not have a chance to scream or try to raise her hands in defense before there was a figure rushing to her side.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he breathed.

  Skye sobbed in relief at the sound of his familiar lilt. She could hear that he was still slightly winded from overturning the vehicle.

  “A stóirín? Can ya hear me?” He pleaded as he leaned into the wreckage for her.

  “Ciaran,” she whimpered weakly. She gazed up into his stricken eyes as she tried to reach for him. The pain the movement caused reduced her to tears. Her blood-slicked hand dropped limply to the seat beside her in defeat, but he grasped it tightly.

  “I’m here, darling. You’re gonna be all right now. Just...” he tried, but trailed off, his voice breaking as he took in her injuries.

  The sight of gore and wounds had long-since lost its effect on him. He had spent his fair share of time patching up his brothers from battles over the years. But this was Skye. This was his fiery, secretly sweet and tender Skye, and she was broken. Only once in his life had the sight of another’s suffering ever cut him so deeply. This w
as not just blood, this was part of her and it was not where it was supposed to be.

  He placed a trembling hand over his mouth and swallowed hard.

  Fighting back emotion, he managed, “Just be tough for me like always, yeah?”

  His usually smiling face was twisted in worry as she nodded weakly.

  “I’ve gotta get this out,” he warned in a strained whisper before cautiously reaching for the shrapnel.

  “Do it fast,” she told him through clenched teeth. Locking her eyes with his, she drew a deep breath.

  Her shrieks echoed into the forest as he tore the metal from her body. The resulting agony was intense enough to render her unconscious.

  By the time she regained her senses, she could feel grass beneath her, cool air on her face along with his kisses and warm breath. She could hear him pleading frantically above her.

  “... okay... you’re okay, a stóirín. Ya have to be okay... look at me, damn it... please Skye! Come on, just look at me!” He cried desperately.

  She fought to open her eyes as his tears rained down on her skin. He let out a choppy sigh of relief when she finally focused on him.

  “Hey...” he greeted with a sniffle and caressed her bloodied face in his trembling hands. “There ya are,” he whispered, kissing her lips sweetly as he sobbed.

  She sighed against his lips, beyond thankful to have him here.

  “We’ve gotta get ya back to the castle,” he whispered. “We’ll stay here a moment longer, but then we have to move. Even with the ones I’ve brought fighting, there are too many of them for us to overcome. They outnumber us greatly. We need help.”

  “Miko...” she whispered.

  Ciaran winced and lowered his eyes.

  “Is he... ?” She tried weakly.

  “He can’t have made it, love,” Ciaran whispered as he shook his head sorrowfully. “Ya don’t want to see him like this.”

  His heart was breaking as he forced those words from his lips. The opposite side of the vehicle had collided with a tree when it reached the bottom of the embankment. He had not even been able to bring himself to pry the metal open and see what remained of what would have been his newest brother.