Smoke in Moonlight (CELTIC ELEMENTALS) Page 16

  Then he skimmed upward, brushing over her nipples one by one, until they hardened, then back down her belly and lower, over the damp curls between her thighs.

  His hand slid down farther and lifted her ankle as he moved between her legs. Ronan pressed a kiss to the back of each knee, watching her again. She held her breath as his mouth trailed upward ever so slowly, then let it out in a whoosh when he turned his attention to her other leg.

  He smiled at her expression and as always that smile made her heart catch. Pain and yearning warred in her so fiercely Lacey had to close her eyes. They snapped back open when she felt Ronan's fingers easing her wet folds apart, the warm pulse of his breath against the inside of her thigh. Her hips arched at the intimate contact. She bit back a half-scream when she felt the first warm sweep of his tongue. Her whole body bowed off the ground and she quivered, helpless as liquid fire swept through her.

  His big hands held her writhing hips against his exploring mouth, one thumb on each of her hipbones, his fingers spread over her buttocks. She begged and pleaded as he tormented her, not even knowing what she said and far past caring.

  His tongue was by turns soft and languid, then hard and demanding, circling and lapping at her swollen nub until she did scream, her fingers buried in his hair as the onslaught of pleasure made her half-mad.

  The echo of her cries hadn't died away when Ronan picked up her up and slid her down onto his waiting erection.

  Hard.

  Lacey's head fell back at the instant reaction of her body--the fresh wave of fierce need that took over as he filled her.

  Ronan supported Lacey with one large hand, his other hand cupping her breast, the touch of those rough fingers teasing one hard nipple, as he moved within her. Fast, yanking her down to meet his every thrust. Another orgasm struck her like lightning and Lacey's own fingers clawed at Ronan's shoulders as he continued his rhythm unabated, his eyes dark and intent on her flushed face.

  "Please," she gasped in his ear, feeling like she was losing her mind at the pleasure rolling through her. "I can't take it."

  He didn't stop, his voice low and growling. "Ye can."

  His mouth came over hers and she met it, fierce in her desperation, kissing him hard. Her pace swiftly became as frantic as his, both of them wet with sweat, her hands slipping over his slick shoulders, the cool air of the cave unable to dissipate their heat.

  She met each one of his thrusts now, pushing herself down, again and again, in pounding lockstep with each other. Lacey savoring every glorious inch of him, the rippling play of his muscles under her hands and the look in his eyes as he drove her higher than she’d ever been before.

  Her heart raced and burned in her chest, begging for air, but she wouldn't lift her lips from his. Ronan's hand slid between their damp bodies, his knuckles rubbing against her blistering center and she moaned into his mouth. Grinding herself against the twin pressures of his hand and his cock, her body demanding release yet again and Lacey felt her inner muscles seize him in anticipation.

  Ronan went all the way up on his knees in response, pulling her with him as his powerful thigh muscles went rigid.

  His hands tightened reflexively and Lacey ground down the tremendous length of him one more time, feeling his heat flowing into her before the oblivion of orgasm wiped out all.

  She quaked against him, so long and so hard Lacey thought she would die of it---and almost wished she had when she opened her eyes and saw the bitter sadness in his. She reached up and trailed her fingers over his face, trying to sooth away the pain there. He slipped out of her and laid down, pulling her on top of him.

  "It will work out. I really believe it will, Ronan." And somehow she did.

  Ronan turned his head and kissed her palm, but there was no hope in those gray eyes. “Tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat tá sé nimhneach.” He meant to repeat the words in English for her, but a shuffling sound and darkening of the light made him glance up.

  "Well, well, this is sweet." The raw demonic voice made the hair stand up on the back of Lacey's neck. Ronan, his lips still pressed to her palm, leapt to his feet instantly. He stood in front of her, naked and furious, facing a group that made Lacey's blood freeze.

  Four Changelings stood in a loose half-circle, grouped around Aine and an unremarkable looking man that must have been the one who had spoken. His pale blue eyes flickered to Lacey for a brief moment and the evil that flowed from them had her scooting back against the wall, her pulse thundering in terror.

  "It is gratifying to catch you so....completely...unawares, dog." He smiled and beckoned the Changelings forward. "Take the key."

  Ronan simply slapped the first Changeling into the tomb wall as if were a fly. But the resultant crash that made dust and debris rain down.

  "Key, Aillen?" Lacey had never seen Ronan this angry. He loomed in the confines of the cave, every muscle in his body was bunched and quivering, as if he could explode any minute. Aine seemed to think so as well, she was eyeing Ronan quite nervously. The man called Aillen, however, simply waved his hand as if to clear the air and looked at the fallen Changeling in disgust, before his pale eyes flashed back to Ronan.

  "Haven't you guessed? Your little chit there." Ronan's hands clenched and Lacey felt as if they were wrapped around her heart. No, no, no! "I'm afraid I have to borrow her, but you can have her back when I'm done. Too bad you'll both be dead by then, but that's hardly my concern." He whirled on the other Changelings, his terrible voice echoing through the tomb. "Rush him, you fools! I'll get the woman!"

  Figures blurred as the three soulless creatures did as their master ordered. Lacey couldn't move behind Ronan, her bare skin pressed into the cold rough rock. She could hardly make sense of anything, bodies were flying and grunts and squeals rang discordantly through the cave, making her head reverberate.

  Suddenly a hot hand with sharp fingernails seized her wrist and she screamed, before she was lifted violently and her head slammed into the wall.

  Pain and terror swelled and then evaporated as her world went dark.

  Chapter 15

  Daire sat by Ronan's bed, staring down at Aidan. Where he'd sat for hours and hours, watching the sunlight peak and begin to die. The vampire was stirring slightly for the first time as thicker shadows filled the room. His eyes snapped open, the strange crystalline irises fixed instantly on Daire. As if he had known he was there.

  Of course he had.

  "You had me dead to rights, Fitzpatrick. Just pull the blankets down and open the door and you could've fried my ass."

  Daire's lip curled in disgust as he watched Aidan sit up. "Guess I'm too soft for my own good, is that what ye think? Don't be an eejit. I just didna want you to go so easily. I'm going to want to watch ye die, O'Neill. And you'll be awake for every second of it. Just like she was...."

  Aidan snorted and ran a hand through his mussed curls. "You were a fool then, and you're a fool now. She was a bitch, Daire."

  His head snapped back as Daire's solid punch connected with his chin. Aidan straightened slowly to his feet, standing next to the bed.

  "I don't want to hurt ye, you bloody eejit."

  "Too late, bloodsucker."

  Aidan sighed and turned to pull his leather coat out of the tangled covers. "Don't do this, Daire. You haven't a chance in hell and ye know it."

  But this time Daire didn't try and strike out. Instead, he grabbed one of the vampire's ungloved hands and squeezed. Aidan's normally pale face went shockingly, otherworldly white. White as bleached parchment.

  He sank to his knees.

  "Like how that feels?" Daire whispered, grinding bones together as he tightened his grip. "I know why ye wear those gloves, O'Neill. It's funny, isn't it? A vampire who can't handle the emotions of the humans he preys on. Shitty little coward. Well, how's my pain feel to you? Taste as good as Jane did, does it?" Lost in his revenge, Daire didn't see Aidan's other hand lift from the floor and stretch out.

  Aidan grabbed the front of Daire's shir
t and pulled himself to his feet. His knees were shaking from the agony Daire had unleashed on him, but Aidan had dealt with agony before.

  He fought it down and stared into Daire's eyes. "She wasn't worth all this, Daire. Not a drop of it. Jane wasn't worth you, Daire. Trust me on that."

  "Trust you?!" Daire let go of Aidan's hand and backed away. Aidan took a deep breath and grabbed his coat, ignoring the vehement burst of Gaelic from Daire. He fumbled in the pocket for his gloves, pulling them on one by one, shamefully grateful for the cool touch of the leather against his burning skin.

  Then he heard the whisper of steel against leather. Followed by a gasp of pain.

  Aidan knew what he'd see when he turned. Daire had managed to draw Ronan's blade, no doubt through sheer force of will. But the weight of it had drawn the point down to the floor. With a gravity so powerful it was digging into the polished wood floor.

  Aidan sighed again.

  "Daire, Lugh won't let you wield the sword of light against me."

  “Why the bloody hell not? Who has more darkness inside him than a vampire? Especially you." Daire was fairly spitting at him as he tried to lift the sword.

  "You'd think so, wouldn't ye?" Aidan reached over and plucked the hilt from Daire's straining hands with careless ease. He cut the blade though the air with balletic grace before bringing the tip down to rest just beneath Daire's jaw.

  "But then Lugh has always sort of liked me. He also doesn't seem to have a problem with me taking you out." Aidan smiled. "Interesting, isn't it? You hide your hate so well, most of the time, don't you? Sweet, funny, dreamy Daire. But it's eating away inside you. Could your soul actually be blacker than mine?"

  "Ye don't have one!" Daire lifted his chin, his eyes full of fury.

  Aidan's lips tightened. "True enough. Damme! I don't really have time for your vendetta, Daire. I should be watching your brother's back." He pinched the bridge of his nose between two gloved fingers, feeling a sickening rush of weakness. Gods, but he needed a fucking drink. Now. "You Fitzpatrick boys and your women troubles. No matter how long I'm away it doesn't seem to change."

  "Damme, ye don't believe this crap about Lacey, do ye? He's friggin' paranoid from dealing with Aine and that bastard brother of hers for so long. Lacey isn't going to hurt him anymore than Jane would've hurt me!"

  "That's precisely what I'm afraid of." Aidan hooked a boot around the rolling chair and pulled it to him. He sat down and laid the gleaming blade across his thighs. "She came to me, Daire. Jane did."

  "You called her! I know how it works, O'Neill. I've grilled Ronan a lot since you've been gone." Daire was leaning against the wall now, his arms folded over his chest. "If ye vamps call someone they canna resist. It's worse than sheep to a slaughter house."

  "Aye, if I had called her, she would've come. But I didn't, you eejit. Remember, I was leaving that night. Ronan was still with Boru and wanted me to check on all of you while I was in Donegal for supplies, where ye all were living back then. I stayed less than a week.... Damme, man, I could see what she was, your precious intended. The night I left, she heard me tell you the road I was taking to join back up. She sought me out. Begged me to take her with. And it weren't the first time she'd come to me either, mind. She was the reason I was dead set on getting away so quick.”

  "Says you."

  "Gods! Ye are a more stubborn arse than yer bleedin' brother." Aidan closed his eyes, hearing Daire's heart beat from across the cottage, the strong pulse through his arteries fueled by anger. Blood heated the man's skin, soaking the air between them with the delectable scent.

  It had been madness to go so long without feeding. If he hadn’t been so goddamn worried about Ronan…

  Aidan felt his hold on himself sliding, like rope through sweaty fingers. "I canna convince ye, ye've made your own hell too well." Aidan stood abruptly. He crossed to where the scabbard lay on the floor and sheathed the sword. Daire took a step forward.

  "What do ye think you're doing?"

  "Getting out of here before I do something I'll regret, which is not what I feel about what happened to Jane." Aidan walked to hang the sword back on its hook.

  Tonight was the new moon, Ronan wouldn’t need it tonight. Werewolves didn't carry swords and neither did vampires. He opened the door, desperate to get away from the smell of Daire's blood.

  Then Daire grabbed his shoulder and Aidan's control snapped. He whirled around with preternatural speed, throwing the shorter, but heavier man into the wall as if he were a doll.

  Daire's head slammed back, his brown hair scattered over his suddenly transfixed face and Aidan could see the glow of his own eyes in Daire's glassy pupils. His bloodlust had been unleashed and Daire was helpless against it. It gave Aidan no pleasure.

  Well, maybe just a bit. The damn fool.

  "Ye keep provoking the devil and ye have to pay."

  "You're going to kill me, too." Daire had enough will left to utter the words, which were not a question.

  Aidan shook him once, hard, like a big cat disciplining a kitten before shoving him back against the wall.

  He wrapped one gloved hand around Daire's throat, holding him in place while he used his fangs to pry the glove off his other hand. He then clamped his bare fingers around Daire's wrist and lifted it to his parched lips. "Maybe we can both get what we need from this."

  Daire didn't understand the words until Aidan's fangs sank deep into his flesh. With the burst of pain and a lassitude that seemed to seep into every muscle and pore came a barrage of images as Aidan let his mind open to the past.

  Daire started to shake.

  Jane, her bright gold hair slipping through the darkened misty forest, calling his name. No, not his name. Aidan's. Calling for Aidan. Then she was laughing up at him...No, not him—not Daire. Aidan. He was Aidan and her hands were slipping around his neck, her body against his, her lips on his throat. Her hand slid down and rubbed his cock through his breeches. He was pushing her away, roughly. So hard she fell to the ground. He said something disparaging before walking away. The look on her face was murderous. She began to scream obscenities, threats, and insults, her voice alternating between fury and a cajoling whine. When he continued walking without so much as glancing back, she flew at him. Digging her nails around into his face. Taken by surprise, he wrenched his back with the incredible strength of a vampire. Jane flew off, her body flying through the air until with a sickening crack, her head hit the trunk of the tree the same instant the old splintered branch slid through her throat....

  “You know, I didn’t even bite her, Daire.” Daire looked up to see Aidan crouched over him. His thoughts were dazed and his head ached. He was surprised to find himself slumped half on the floor of Ronan‘s cabin, instead of that damn misty forest. His neck was awkwardly braced against the wall, but he wasn’t uncomfortable--just so completely exhausted.

  Daire remembered how he’d felt when Jane‘s da had found her bed empty and called out a search. What he had long feared about his brother’s friend, though he wouldn't admit it himself. When he had found Aidan on the road, Jane at his feet, his fears had been confirmed.

  “I saw ye bending over her, and there was so much blood... "

  “Aye, I’d pulled the branch out of her. I wasn’t sure it was her neck broken, thought maybe a shoulder, but...well, I couldn’t do anything.”

  “And I came at ye,” Daire’s white face filled with regret. “I said...”

  “You went mad. I was there, remember.” Aidan didn’t want to rehash that night. It had hurt too much the first time. He had thought Ronan’s family, at least, trusted him. And he’d been wrong.

  He couldn’t allow that kind of betrayal to happen again. And he never would. Aidan picked Daire up as if he were a toddler, instead of large man weighing almost 15 stone. His face was blank as he laid Ronan’s brother in the bed he’d so recently vacated.

  “It’s alright, Daire," Aidan lied. "A fair mistake.”

  “Nae, it’s not. You stayed away
all this time...gods, all this time,” but Daire’s eyes were closing and his words were slurring.

  Aidan sighed and pulled the covers over him. “I took too much from ye, Daire. You’ll be alright, but you’re going out for a fair bit.” He leaned forward as Daire whispered something.

  “Should’ve taken it all. Been such a fool...”

  Aidan smiled, but it was a hard smile. “You’d be ten times the fool if ye wished for that.” He watched as Daire went under completely, and whatever the vampire's thoughts were, they didn’t show in his eyes.

  He picked his coat up from where it had slipped to the floor and slung it over his shoulders. Daire’s blood had strengthened him considerably, though it was hardly enough. He needed a kill and he knew it.

  Aidan wondered who it would be and what it would cost him, and this time his eyes were as bleak as his thoughts.

  "Will she live long enough to complete the ceremony?" That horrible voice made Lacey's head pound and she tried to turn away from it, but nausea bloomed in her stomach when she moved. Cool hands pushed her into the earth. Damp earth. Where the hell was she? Why was she naked? Where was Ronan? But she couldn't speak to ask the questions. Lacey’s terror grew even as she struggled to push it down—to listen. She could at least listen.,,

  "I think she'll be fine. She just needs to rest for a moment." That was unmistakably Aine's voice. Anger washed through Lacey and she fought harder to open her eyes. They wouldn't obey her through the jackhammer in her brain.

  "I don't care if she's fine! As long as her heart doesn't stop beating before I can take her blood, she can be catatonic. It only makes it easier--if not as much fun. I would have liked her to scream for him. Ah well. You-pick her up!"

  Lacey stifled a groan as someone lifted her and a smell like fetid roses soaked the air. She felt herself settled on a hip, as if she was a small child. A thick arm snaked around her waist. Lacey shuddered in revulsion at the touch of a rubbery hand.