Avador Book 2, Night Shadows (3 page)

"No." She spoke brokenly. "No matter what, I love and respect my parents. It would hurt them too much if I left them."

"And me? Don't you think you are hurting me? My darling, you are tearing me apart. Please, let's–"

"Maeve!" Her father's voice carried from the front porch of their mansion. "You've spent enough time with the apothecary. You must come in now. Tell the laborer goodbye and that is the end of it."

"Goodbye, dear Gaderian," she whispered, and ran from him.

He wanted to call her back, beg, do anything to have her as his own. He cursed his poverty, the job that had once given him such pride. Now grief settled over him like a heavy weight, a sorrow that would accompany him throughout life. Stifling his tears, he turned away to trudge home, back to his lonely cottage. He wished he could die, end his life this very minute. He made a vow. Never again would he give his heart to any woman

"Gaderian!"

He spun around, his gaze searching the trees.

"Gaderian!" A woman stepped out from behind an oak, a strong rose scent clinging to her. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, with blonde hair so light it shone like silver, and the most luscious body he'd ever beheld, molded inside a black satin gown with a deep decolletage.

After several tries, he managed to speak. "How do you know my name? And who are you?"

She smiled, her dimples showing. "My name is Moreen. And how do I know yours? I followed you here, although of course, you didn't see me."

"Spying on me! You had no right." Sorrow over Maeve clashed with present confusion. "But why?"

"Umm." She tilted her head, as if thinking. "Maybe I get lonely at times."

"Lonely? A beautiful woman like you? But I still don't understand. Why did you come here, at this particular place? I've never seen you before."

"But I've seen you. Let's just say that nighttime is my time, and I go wherever I want, wherever my inclination leads me." She smiled winsomely. "And my inclination led me to you."

He stepped back, resolved to head home. "Well, find someone else, then, because I don't need your company." He wanted only to go home and try to sleep, try to forget Maeve, though he feared her memory would haunt him for the rest of his life. Tears clotted his throat, and he wondered how he could ever put her from his mind. Misery enclosed him, a long, painful torment that stretched for years ahead, until he died. He wanted to die now.

Lightly, she touched his arm. "Gaderian, I can show you a whole new life, a life that has no end."

He snickered. "And I can show you a fortune in gold." He chuckled, a sound he feared might soon degenerate into a sob. "So you are promising me immortality."

"Why, yes, that is exactly what I offer you." She stared into his eyes, and he couldn't have looked away if all the gold in the kingdom was strewn at his feet. Her own eyes captivated him, as if he had no will of his own. She leaned closer and licked his neck, her rose scent washing over him, strong and sweet. He felt a sharp bite, but still he couldn't move, could only surrender to the sweet lassitude that consumed him. Their bodies touching, she eased him to the ground with her, hidden by overhanging branches of oaks and willows. Pausing for a moment, she looked into his eyes, giving him a chance to draw back, to end his transmutation. But oh! he didn't want to stop this wonderful experience, this beautiful throbbing that pulsed through his body. Rapture flowed through him, a bliss too great to forego, an ecstasy beyond imagination. Everything around him looked so beautiful, as if it were daylight. The stars shone a thousand times brighter, and even the breeze sounded like music in his ears. The scent of night-blooming jasmine became the most exquisite perfume, blending with the fragrance of grass and trees, and over everything, her aroma of roses.

Before sunlight touched the land, before they headed for Moreen's residence in a vault deep underground, he knew his life had changed forever. Despite a lingering sorrow over Maeve, he gloried in his new immortality. His grief eventually disappeared, replaced by a resolve to live his new life to the fullest. Not once had he looked back

Chapter Three

"She's not there, sir." 

After admitting the servant into his study, Kelvin Connor exchanged a look with Angus Kendall, the latter having come to discuss business. Connor drummed his fingers on his oaken desk, fighting to control his temper. "Not at her brother's? Did you ask him if he knew where she went?"

"Yes, sir. He has no idea." The servant paused. "I checked other places in
Sligo, sir, inns and such. No one there knows her or anything of her."

Connor nodded in dismissal. "Very well. That's all for now. I may call on you later."

The servant left, and Connor exchanged another look with Angus Kendall. A wide multi-paned window admitted refracted light into the large room, where book-filled shelves lined each wall, books Connor freely acknowledged he'd bought to impress visitors. A sheepskin rug stretched the length of the floor, dyed purple to match the draperies at the window.

In another chair close by the desk,
Kendall sipped his wine and set the glass down. "In all frankness, you should have foreseen that Fianna could easily escape by descending the ivy along the wall." Tall and thin, he had the look of a bookish scholar, instead of a ruthless mine owner.

"How?" Connor asked, trying to stifle his irritation with the other man. "I never realized it would hold a grown person's weight. But that's beside the point now." He raked his fingers through his hair. "My stepdaughter is gone and we don't know where."

Kendall took another sip of wine, his bland expression preventing discernment of his thoughts. "To the capital." He brushed a drop of wine from his linen tunic and gave Kelvin Connor a look of certainty.

"Moytura?" Connor shook his head. "Miles from here. Almost a nineday away. I can't believe she would go that far."

Angus lifted his hands. "Then where?  Easy to get lost in a city that size. Sounds logical to me."

Connor pounded his fist on the desk. "All along, I've underestimated her. Should have realized she's not like her mother." He snorted. "Evelina, my submissive wife." He sighed and shook his head. "I'll have to send more servants out, do anything to get her back. And when I do . . ." Although the threat remained unspoken, his meaning was clear.

"Not when you find her, but when I do."

Connor jerked his head up. "What?"

"Listen." Kendall spoke, a crafty look on his face. "I know several men who are quite skilled in finding missing persons, or shall we say, people who have fled for one reason or another. I'll put them on her trail, and I'll wager you one of them will find her within a nineday. I'll send each one in a different direction–north, south, east, and west. One of them is bound to find her."

He drained his wine glass. "And then what?"

"Whichever one finds her will report to me and I'll bring her back." An egotistical expression captured Kendall's face. "Throughout the years, I've established a system of communicating by use of carrier pigeons. Very effective, I must say. As soon as I hear from one of my men, I'll be on my way to bring her back."

"Why not have your man bring her back?" Goddess, was this man born with that smug look on his face?

Kendall smiled slyly. "Because I want the pleasure of capturing her myself."

Kelvin Connor remained quiet for a few moments, sifting ideas through his mind. He hated to accept defeat, hated even more for someone to succeed where he had failed. "Very well. That's as good a plan as any."

"Good," Kendall said, nodding. "I'll set the men on the job as soon as I return home."

Connor remained silent for a moment, frustrated in more ways than one by his stepdaughter's disappearance, thinking of her tempting breasts, her slim hips, that sensual walk of hers, all these qualities that taunted him with a myriad of desires.

Angus Kendall glanced at the hourglass on Connor's desk. "Best I leave soon. But I wanted to tell you of a recent discovery, something I'd intended to say before your servant arrived." He leaned forward, speaking in low tones. "Wait 'til you hear about the new mineral my workers found at one of my mines."

"The sunstone? You mentioned that a few days ago."

"Yes, but let me tell you something new, something we just discovered." He paused, as if for effect. "The stone can make a person invisible when he bleeds."

Kelvin Connor sat upright. "Impossible!" He narrowed his eyes. "How do you know this?"

Angus Kendall smiled. "We found this remarkable quality quite by accident. One of my workers was in my office, fingering a stone chip, which cut him. Then he became invisible, surprising everyone, including me."

"Then how does he become visible again?"

"When he stops bleeding. But do you understand what this means for us?" His voice rose with enthusiasm. "For years–centuries!—the bandregas have sought dominance over the vampires, who can make themselves invisible. What the bandregas wouldn't give to own this stone! Think of the fortune we can make, you and I!  And you know, I have friends and influence among those creatures. They hate the vampires and the vampires hate them. A constant struggle between the two forces. If a vampire bites a bandrega, of course he will bleed. Even the bandregas are not impervious to bleeding. But as soon as the blood begins to flow, they will become invisible and–"

"Gradually?"

"Immediately!" Kendall snapped his fingers. "Just like that! So–"

"Wait a minute.  If the vampire still has the bandrega in his clutches–"

"Even so, easy to escape when you are nothing but a cloud. Try holding on to something intangible. Now what I was saying–if you could fashion a ring or pendant of sunstone, the bandregas can easily escape the vampires by touching the stone as soon as they are bitten." He smiled his crafty smile again. "You and I will make a fortune. Don't you see the beauty of it?"

"What if a bandrega receives a mortal knife wound?" Connor asked. "Will he still disappear?"

Kendall shrugged. "Who knows? Something tells me he won't disappear, because his magical abilities will die with him."

Connor frowned. "But mining the sunstone and getting the gem to me is a long process."

"Unfortunately, yes. But fortunately, we have enough of the stone mined already to start with, perhaps enough to make one-hundred or so rings. Our gem cutter has already begun work on them. The stone needn't be large. A quarter of a carat will do."

"Then get these stones to me as soon as possible." Connor rubbed his hands together. "I'll begin work right away."

Kendall nodded. "The bandregas will pay us handsomely for these jewels. And we will

have them in our control. Ah, you see how much we can accomplish with this stone?" He rose to his feet.  "And now, it's time for me to leave. I'll have a servant deliver the stones to you. I'll send another servant after your stepdaughter."  He paused, as if just thinking of something. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your share of the bandregas' money is dependent upon our finding Fianna. No Fianna, no money."

"What!" Fierce anger burned a path from his head to his stomach. He wanted to kill the Goddess-damned prick.

"You heard me. It's your fault Fianna escaped in the first place." With those last words, he walked out the door.

Still reeling with fury, he returned to his desk and sank into his chair. He clenched and unclenched his hands, his head pounding. Fianna would be found, he tried to assure himself but failed miserably. He sprang to his feet and paced the floor. 

His mind drifted back to a time years ago, when he'd first become a jewelry craftsman in the
village of Uisnech, far to the north. Such pride he'd taken in his profession, such beautiful pieces he'd created! Then one day, he found that the gems he'd bought were not real stones at all, but ones artificially created, not worth a fraction of what he'd paid for them, but so cleverly made they easily passed for the real stone. He recalled the day, as if it were yesterday. One of his customers had come to him, furious and threatening to sue. The woman had taken the ring he'd made to a gemstone expert, who told her the stone was not a real emerald, but a fake.

Shortly after, he'd gone to see the same expert. Quench crackling, is what the man had told him. "Fools many jewelers," he'd gone on to explain. "Synthetic stones may be heated and then plunged into cold water. Makes cracks in them, so that they look more natural." The expert sighed. "Counterfeiting gems, happens all the time."

Word spreads quickly in a small village, and within days, all his customers had sued him, for all the stones he'd bought had been from the same dealer, one who had made fake stones. Bankrupt and disgraced, he had to leave Uisnech like a thief in the middle of the night, coming here to Ros Creda, hoping no one here would know of his past. From then on, he'd vowed no one would take advantage of him, but that he would make his money however he could.  He'd married since then, his present wife needing a man after her husband's death. Since then, too, he'd established a partnership with Angus Kendall and built up a prosperous business here in Ros Creda

And now, would his newfound wealth all be for nothing? Much good this gemstone would do him if Fianna were not found. For if that ungrateful girl remained missing, there would be no marriage between her and Angus Kendall. And, as
Kendall had made plain, no marriage, no partnership. He clenched his hands and kicked a wastebasket, spilling its contents. Fianna must be found.