Immortal Scotsman

by McQueen, H. M.

  When he began to black out, he began to wonder.

  Exactly how lucky had the demons gotten?

  Chapter Twenty

  Josh’s body evaporated. The residual vapor swirled around Gerard. It did little to calm him. With a snort of disgust, he kicked the demon’s sword away.

  “Why did I waste my time sending him?” he asked the low-levels who stood near, their eyes darting about as if looking for an escape route. Not expecting a reply, Gerard watched the rest of the demons prepare to depart.

  Younglings stood side-by-side and gawked at the burning house, not allowing the overpowering heat to distract them from the enthralling sight of flames that grew taller and brighter against the night sky.

  A loud explosion shook the ground as the flames jumped higher. Vibrations from it traveled up his tight leg muscles. Upon his arrival, he had expected to be holding the key within minutes. The raw power of renewed energy should have been coursing into his weakened body now. Instead…nothing. He drew a deep breath in an effort to remain calm and not use up more strength than absolutely necessary.

  A drop of perspiration glided down the side of his face. The heat from the fire was becoming unbearable, but he pondered whether the sweat was more from desperation.

  In a few minutes, firefighters would arrive. Surely, someone had spotted the glow of the flames by now.

  Gerard signaled for everyone to leave, deciding to muster enough energy to flash to downtown Atlanta. Forced to feed like a common low-level, he could draw energy now only from the blood of a living human. He was no longer able to control his bloodlust, and his stomach clenched, demanding more. Tonight, he’d get his fill, gorge until the edge was gone. Whoever the donors were would have to die. He couldn’t chance their minds being read by a Master or, worse, that the human might get back to Inferno and talk.

  The constant hunger meant he fed more often at the coven, but not wanting to raise suspicion of his dwindling powers, he only took small amounts. Even so, the human followers were beginning to avoid him. No, he couldn’t continue to live this way. If any high-levels found out his secret, they wouldn’t hesitate to demand a death match so that they could take his place.

  Another hunger pang almost doubled him over. Thankfully, no one paid him any attention as the sound of fire engines started to compete with that of another explosion.

  As soon as the demons left, Gerard flashed back to Centennial Park. The festivities were just beginning; people were not drunk with lust yet. It didn’t matter. Humans were weak willed, and he couldn’t wait. If he fed well tonight, he could maintain energy for another day or two.

  From the shadows of a building, he watched, scanning the crowd for his prey. There were no Protectors in sight. They’d be there soon, the draw of the festivities made for a perfect hunting ground for both demons and Protectors alike.

  He became incensed at the knowledge that he couldn’t beat a Protector right now. How had it come to this?

  Him—a Master demon. The highest level demon in the entire state of Georgia.

  If only he could have acquired the key. Too late, he realized, he should have went to fetch it personally. Now, the key was out of his reach. No doubt, it remained under serious protection now.

  His only other option, a distasteful one, was possession. With his powers almost depleted, even if he fed continuously, the curse of the first key had done its damage. He had little choice.

  The Key of War increased his powers ten-fold for a century, only to then rob him of them just as quickly when the time was up. Soon, he would be forced to take over someone else’s body to survive. His own would immediately crumble, turning to dust.

  Plan B was in motion. The search for his new body had already begun.

  Just the night before, he’d run into the perfect donor, a powerful Protector, Fallon Trent. The corner of his lips twitched at the thought.

  He’d seen the Protector in a side street. After flashing in behind the male, he’d frozen time and placed a small pebble of possession inside his chest. If he needed a body, very soon Trent would be his for the taking.

  “Hello, handsome, why are you standing here all by yourself?” A husky feminine voice tore his attention away from his thoughts. A dark-haired woman stood before him, her face upturned to his, a sensual smile on her lips.

  “Obviously waiting for a beautiful woman like you to come by,” he replied smoothly. Locking gazes with her, he immediately took control of her mind.

  The woman was attractive. By the professional cut of her dress and no-nonsense heels, she’d probably just left her office. She swayed slightly, blinking, as if trying to see clearly. Gerard took her hand and guided her into the shadowy side street.

  He would make this enjoyable for her. Besides, it helped for the female to make encouraging noises in case someone happened by. They’d be mistaken for a couple making out.

  When he pushed her against the wall and claimed her mouth, she instantly became aroused; her arms wrapped around him, and she greedily suckled his lips.

  “Yes, that’s it, enjoy me,” Gerard whispered in her ear, pushing his hardness into her. “Come for me.”

  “Oh, don’t stop,” the woman gasped, grabbing his hips and yanking him into her with amazing strength.

  He began trailing kisses down the side of her throat, the strong rush of her blood pumping under his lips assaulted his senses. His incisors snapped down, and he bit her. A moan escaped his lips at the familiar rush of adrenaline when his fangs broke her skin.

  “Oh, God, yes!” She called out and began to shake as an orgasm rocked her. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, and she held him in place, not wanting to fall from her high.

  Foolish woman.

  Her rich, thick blood was nectar, and Gerard gulped it down loudly. She began to writhe, climbing to another peak when a sharp tingle alerted him.

  A Protector was near.

  Gerard took a few precious swallows. It seemed this donor wouldn’t die tonight after all.

  He released the woman with such speed that she cried out in pain when his teeth tore her skin open.

  Spinning, he caught sight of the Protector as the male turned the corner. Eyeing the drawn sword, Gerard knew the Protector had already sensed him and was prepared for battle.

  It was the same Protector that stumbled upon him just the day before, Julian’s latest recruit to the Atlanta area. Gerard held back the urge to smile. Things were definitely turning in his favor. The Brit had no idea what lay ahead for him, nor did he remember seeing him the day prior. The spell he’d cast camouflaged not only his scent but his features as well.

  The powerful man’s energy excited him.

  The night wasn’t a total loss after all. Although Gerard wasn’t strong enough to beat the Protector physically, thanks to the woman’s rich blood, his bewitching powers were.

  “Not drawing a sword? Does this mean you are going to make this easy for me, demon?” the Protector’s voice held a deep timbre, his words accentuated by his accent. “Well, then, away you go.” The Protector raised his sword and took a step toward him.

  The timing had to be perfect. Gerard was ramrod still, his right hand poised, waiting for the precise moment to make contact with the male. The Protector’s sword sliced through the air with a startling precision that was meant to behead him.

  At just the right instant, Gerard flashed behind Fallon and pressed his palm to the back of his neck.

  The sword clanged to the ground, falling free of the Protector’s hand.

  The large male followed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The urgency of the voices penetrated the fogginess of her brain. Wendy jerked to a sitting position and looked around in an effort to get her bearings. She was lying on a couch in the living room at Cyn and Emma’s house.

  How had she gotten here? Where was Kieran?

  “Oh, Roderick, thank God, you’re here,” Emma exclaimed from another room. “He’s still unconscious.”

  T
he low rumble of Roderick’s voice replied, but Wendy could not make out the words. Were they referring to Kieran?

  When she stood, the room swayed, and she fell back onto the couch. “Shit.” It took several minutes for the queasiness in her stomach to settle. Anxious to check on Kieran, she slid to the edge of the couch and made a slow second attempt to stand.

  Thankfully, the room remained still, and Wendy made an unsteady trek toward the sound of the voices.

  She reached the doorway and held on to the trim to steady herself. Roderick stood at one side of the bed, bent at the waist. She couldn’t see what he was doing.

  Cyn stood with his back to her, blocking her view of whomever lay in the bed. The bulky Protector leaned forward. “Kieran? Can you hear me?”

  Emma stood beside Roderick with a handful of bandages, obviously assisting him with Kieran’s care.

  Please let him be okay.

  Wendy rushed toward the bed, squeezing past Cyn. She stopped short at the sight. Kieran lay in the middle blood-soaked sheets; more dripped to the floor to form a sizeable crimson puddle.

  So much blood.

  His face was devoid of color, so pale he was almost transparent. Kieran appeared to be more dead than alive at the moment. His lips were purplish, and his eyes were sunken.

  “Oh, God,” Wendy gasped, taking a step closer. Three sets of eyes jerked to her, but no one moved away from Kieran.

  The metallic smell of his blood hit her full force. In an attempt to impede the inevitable, she slapped both hands over her nose and mouth.

  “No, no, I can’t pass out. I need to be here for him.” Wendy’s voice sounded far away to her own ears as blackness enveloped her again.

  “Wendy, can you hear me?” Emma shook her, and Wendy fought to raise her heavy lids.

  “Here, honey, drink this.” Spearmint tea flowed into her mouth, its sweetness making it easier to come around. She took a couple of swallows and took a deep breath.

  “It’s good, thank you.” Wendy urged her eyes open and smiled at Emma.

  Emma’s lips were pressed tight, lines of worry around her eyes.

  Memories of what had transpired in the last few hours began to project one by one into her mind. The explosion and subsequent fire from the demon attack on the house flashed in her head followed by the fight against the demons and their escape. Kieran, he was injured.

  “Kieran.” Wendy tried to climb out of the bed. “Is he…? Oh, God.”

  “He is alive,” Emma told her, urging her back to lie down. “Don’t get up just yet. They can’t be distracted with you fainting again.”

  “But I have to see him.”

  This time she was in a bedroom, the door closed. She strained to hear in hopes of getting some clue to what was happening outside. Judging from the quiet, she was further away from Kieran than before.

  “How is he?”

  “Roderick is doing his best, but it seems the demons got lucky and wounded him in all the right places. He’s lost a lot of blood. All of the Protectors are donating blood for him. They can only live on each other’s blood, so we can’t help.” Emma’s worry-filled eyes went to the door.

  “Right now, the front of the house looks like a disaster zone. There are several nurses drawing blood and delivering it to Roderick. He has been giving Kieran transfusions for the last couple of hours. He finally got the bleeding to stop, thanks in part to their swift healing ability. Once the transfusion is complete, all we can do is wait.”

  “I want to see him,” Wendy replied, tears already spilling down her face. Several plopped into her tea.

  Emma took the teacup and placed it aside. She took her hands and gave her a pitying look. “I know, sweetie, but the sight of blood makes you pass out, and right now, it’s everywhere. We can’t risk it.”

  “Can you please go check on him? Come right back. I have to know how he’s doing.”

  Emma nodded and patted her hand, reassuring her. “I’ll be right back. In the meantime, drink the tea. It will help.” She started to get up and then stopped.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Wendy nodded, not able to restrain new tears from springing forth. She waved Emma away. “Go check, please.”

  Emma nodded and went.

  Anxiety took over her, making it hard for her to form a coherent thought. She kept picturing Kieran passed out on the bed, all the blood pooled around his lifeless body. What if he didn’t recover? What would she do?

  “No, he’ll be fine.” Wendy blinked away tears and pulled a couple of tissues from a box on the night table to wipe her eyes.

  He would be all right. Kieran was strong. He was immortal. If anything, that should be her in there bleeding to death, not him. When was he injured? She’d watched the entire fight, and Kieran had seemed to be in control. Of course, there were the times she’d had to ward off demons and was distracted.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back on the pillows. “God, please, don’t let him die. I’m begging you, Lord.”

  Needing something to do, she picked up the teacup with shaky hands and lifted it to her lips.

  It was all because he’d been protecting her. Kieran was hurt because of her and because of the damn key. What was so important about the stupid key anyway? Certainly, it wasn’t worth someone’s life. She lifted the locket from her chest and studied it.

  The simple design was unimpressive, yet the longer she studied it, the more intricate it became, the lines weaving and swirling, changing the pattern every few seconds. It became warm and gradually glowed like an ember. The strange thing was that it didn’t burn her hand.

  An idea struck her. Maybe she’d ask to speak to Julian. If the locket was magic, it was possible that she could use it to heal Kieran. She glanced to the door, willing Emma to return. She swung her legs to the side of the bed, having decided to go in search of the Roman herself.

  Just as she went to stand, Emma returned. From the visible strain on her face, Wendy knew Kieran hadn’t gotten any better. Her friend moved aside to allow a woman who had followed her to enter.

  The woman came in, carrying a tray of food, which she placed on a small table. “Cyn insists that you eat, Emma.” The woman’s expression was warm, but lines of concern were etched between her brow when she spoke. “Consider the baby’s health.”

  Emma thanked the woman and waited for her to leave. She didn’t go near the food. Instead, she came and sat on the bed next to Wendy.

  “He’s still the same. I stood at the doorway, not wanting to get in Roderick’s way. Several medical personnel are here to help. Julian flew the team in from Rome. They are experienced in caring for immortals.” Emma took a shaky breath. “He’s hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. He still looks very pale, but at least his lips are not blue anymore.”

  Noticing her friend’s hand shaking when she pushed her hair behind her ear, Wendy wondered how long it had been since Emma ate. “Come on, let’s eat something. We have to maintain our strength.” Her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

  Emma nodded and moved to the table. Both women sat, but neither touched the food on the tray. Wendy didn’t have any desire to eat, but she was concerned for Emma, so she picked up a croissant and tore it in half, handing Emma the larger piece. She watched as Emma absently bit the bread.

  “Julian said he would be here in a few minutes to talk to you.” Emma paused, her concerned eyes meeting Wendy’s. “Wendy, before Julian speaks to you, there is something I have to tell you.”

  Her stomach pitched. “I’m not sure I want to hear what you’re going to tell me,” Wendy replied and tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat.

  Emma reached for a glass of juice and drank deeply. It wasn’t good, the foreboding tightened in her chest. Whatever Emma was going to say was going to hurt.

  Emma ate in silence for a few minutes.

  “Just spill it already,” Wendy cried, fighting the sudden urge to throw up. “Go on, Emma. It’s okay.”<
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  “Kieran is engaged. He’s getting married in a couple of weeks,” Emma blurted, then covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m so sorry!”

  The bottom of her stomach fell out, and a piercing pain slashed through her chest, but Wendy remained frozen. A myriad of emotions tore her apart: shame, anger, and hurt battled furiously to be the frontrunner. She gulped for a breath. Emma pressed her hand on top of hers.

  “I just found out. I overheard Cyn trying to talk Julian out of it. It seems Kieran is reluctant to get married, but Julian won’t bend on his decision.

  “He said that Kieran is bound, that he’d agreed to an arranged marriage. Now, he can’t go back on his word. Julian won’t allow it.” Emma brushed a tear away. “I’m so sorry, honey. He should have told you. I don’t why he didn’t.”

  An extraordinary numbness engulfed her, and she began to tremble. Wendy waited for the tears, waited for more pain, but all she felt was cold. Kieran was lost to her.

  “I have to get out of here. Please, Emma, get someone to take me away from here,” Wendy got up and stumbled toward the door. “I’m done. I don’t want to know anything else about Protectors, demons, fairies, or any of this bullshit. I mean, what is this? The fucking eighteenth century, where people are forced to marry strangers? I don’t want to deal with it. I have to go.”

  Her traitorous legs gave out, and she sank the floor, her knees buckling under. “I have to go,” she whimpered, struggling to get up. “I’m so fucking done with all of this!”

  Strong arms lifted her and carried her back to the bed. A long silver strand of hair escaped the strap that held it back, and it fell forward to caress her face. Roderick.

  Somber eyes met hers, and the Protector placed his hand on her shoulder. Strength emanated from him, yet his touch remained gentle. “I need to talk to you.” He glanced at Emma as if for permission. Emma nodded.

  The massive Spartan straightened his back and rolled his head, stretching his neck. The strain of the last few hours was visible on his face. With an expectant expression, he took her hand, forcing her to meet his striking silver eyes. “Kieran is beginning to heal, but it will be a lengthy process. One he may not survive. I am here to ask a considerable favor of you. With your help, we can expedite the healing process without having to do several more rounds of transfusions.” He waited, allowing Wendy to let the information sink it. Finally, she replied.