Dark Embrace (20 page)

He had waited twenty-one years for his son to come to manhood, for manhood was always the best time to show a new recruit the pleasure and power of evil. But he had been too late. Aidan had already been chosen by the Brotherhood, and he had taken sacred vows to defend mankind and keep Faith.

Moray had been enraged, but he had calmed soon enough.

Hadn't Faola—or Satan—told him there would be great travail and greater tragedy?

The hunt had begun.

It had taken him another fifteen years to drive Aidan to evil. He had enjoyed every moment of watching Aidan destroy that village of innocent men, women and children, even if he had not lifted his own sword even once. For he had felt Aidan's torment. He had savored every moment of his son's anguish. It had increased his power briefly.

When it was done, Aidan should not have cared about anything or anyone except himself, his power and his next victims. Lust for evil should have ruled him.

But in spite of the crimes he'd committed against God and Innocence that day, he had let the survivors run away to hide. He still loved his son—and demons did not love anything or anyone.

He hadn't been turned completely.

His behavior over the past decades confirmed it. He wasn't a true deamhan. He was only half deamhan, lusting for power as all deamhanain did but leaving his victims
alive.
Like a man with one foot in two disparate worlds, Aidan ignored destruction and death, but did not cause it or relish in it. It was almost incomprehensible. It was not acceptable. It was infuriating.

Only one of you will prevail.

And now Aidan had healed the Rose witch.

Moray had always intended to finish the hunt and finish the turning, but he had been very preoccupied these past sixty-six years, all of them spent in New York City, London and Edinburgh—the triangle of his growing empire. In those cities, death and destruction were on the rise. In fact, anarchy was on the rise in every major city in the world, and he knew his cohorts well. Last night he had leapt to New York in 2008. Mayor Bloomberg had finally called in the National Guard, which had pleased Moray to no end. He had a plan for the Guard—oh, yes.

Nothing would stop him now. He would be the victor in this trial with his half-demon son. The little witch had power—as did her friends—but he wasn't concerned. He had returned after almost seven decades because he finally had all the power he needed.

And it did not come from the dead on his tent floor.

 

A
IDAN SAT CROSS-LEGGED ON THE
ground. The moon was rising above the mountains against a purple sky. A few stars had joined it. He stared up at the flame-colored moon, desperately wishing he were with the pack. The urge to lift his face and howl was bone-deep.

I don't like the Wolf.

Of course she didn't.

The urge intensified. The Wolf had been his salvation ever since the fall. He stared toward the forest, where pairs of glowing eyes met his. The pack continued to wait for him. He could hear them panting softly in the night.

His heart surged. He felt his hackles rise. He felt saliva gather. He was hungry…. When had he last eaten fresh meat?

But he glanced down the rise toward his tent, feeling for Brianna, who was drifting to sleep. He could not go with the pack; he had to stay and guard her from the evil in the night. She had almost died that day because of his war with his father.

But he had healed her.

He hated thinking. The Wolf was thoughtless. He glanced back at the forest and met the steady, intent gazes of the wolves. If he left Brianna now, he had little doubt he would return to find her hurt or dead.

Tired of waiting for him, the wolves turned away one by one, and faded into the forest. Aidan stared after their slinking forms, violently wishing he could go with them.

His head pounded with confusion. Once, long ago, he had been wary of the creature and frightened of it. Then, he had welcomed the Wolf as his best friend. But tonight his heart warred with his body. He could not trust the Wolf to stay sentinel over Brianna that night.

He growled in frustration.

The pack was gone, having sped off into the forest. He stood and started slowly down the ridge. He pushed open the flap and glanced into the night-darkened tent.

One candle burned. The light flickered over Brianna as she slept, curled up on her side, facing him. Her dark hair was loose, a thick mane of waves framing her small, pale face. She was breathing deeply and evenly, and in sleep she looked like a tiny angel of compassion and grace.

She thought herself plain; he thought her beautiful.

A fist seemed to go through his chest. It was the fist of desire, and it chased away the ravenous bloodlust.

Why don't you take me?

He tensed. There had been many virgins, he had no respect for Innocence. But he didn't want to taint her. She deserved far more than a night of passion in his bed.

Why are you so afraid to go to bed with me?

He wasn't afraid. She would not heal him by giving him her lush little body. Sharing a bed wasn't going to miraculously change him into the man he had once been. And even if it could, he would not allow it, just as he wouldn't allow their “friendship” to heal him, either. He would never consider them friends. For the moment, in this war, they were allies. Even if he wished for them to be friends—or lovers—Moray's return had made that impossible.

He had been terrified when she'd lain dying in his arms.

He had not had much time to brood upon the events of the day. He reeled inwardly now to know he still had his great white power.
How was it even possible?

Had his devout mother been a Healer? If so, he had never been told of it.

So he was not as heartless as a half deamhan should be. He did not regret healing her and giving her back her life. But she was stubbornly fighting for his soul, when he did not care at all about it. She must not be the one to pay the price for his war with Moray. The war with his father had already cost him Ian.

He stared at her pale face, her cheeks slightly flushed from the winter sun, her lashes thick and dark on her cheeks, and his heart turned over, hard.

He must not have feelings for her. He knew that. And he didn't—other than a strange admiration for her tenacity and courage. As for the desire, apparently a part of him had not died along with Ian. But he would ignore his human side, no matter what, until she was gone.

She shifted softly in her sleep.

He tensed, concerned that she was dreaming, but she was not. She remained asleep, but before he could turn away from her, he felt his father's dark power behind him.

Aidan whirled, but the night was silent and empty. Or was it?

Years ago, Moray had brought a great chill with him, and a huge, foreboding sense that a terrible hammer of evil was about to fall. Aidan strained through the night and shivered. He thought he detected a new chill, just barely drifting into the tent.

He moved to the tent flap and lifted it. Most of the camp was asleep, some in their brats and blankets upon the ground, the rest in tents, with their many fires now barely burning. Even the women's camp was quiet, most of the fires in ashes and embers. He glanced south, where the horses and pack animals were tethered and grazing quietly, unbothered by the shadows and the darkness.

The air murmured around him, brushing up against him, a soft caress that chilled him to the bone.

Moray was there.

He could not see him; he could not feel him. He simply knew. “Reveal yourself,” he hissed.

He almost thought he heard his father's mocking laughter, but he felt certain it was in his mind. And then he felt Brianna's dream forming.

He rushed to her bedside to wake her up, but before he reached her, he slipped into her sleep to guard her. He faltered in surprise and dismay.

Brianna wore a pretty blue dress, sleeveless and short, revealing half of her slim legs and all of her shapely arms, and she was breathtakingly beautiful. “I knew you would come to me.” She smiled at him, her eyes intent and trained upon him. They were warm with desire, with love.

He knew what she wanted. His entire body stiffened in anticipation.

“We're dreaming,” she told him. “Please don't refuse me now.”

He wanted to be there with her. He wanted to make love to her. But something was terribly wrong—he sensed impending doom.

“I can't,” he said, but he started toward her.

She smiled and stood, holding out her hand.

He faltered. What was he doing in her dream, anyway? He had already realized making love to her in a dream was as dangerous as doing so in the other world.

“Wake up,” he ordered her. He had to end this now, before it went further.

Stubborn as always, Brianna shook her head and reached behind her back for the zipper on her dress. Aidan went still.

And then her eyes widened in abject alarm.

Moray materialized between them.

Aidan became rigid with tension.

His demonic father was not using Robert Frasier now. He appeared exactly as he had before Malcolm and Claire had vanquished him; a tall, handsome blond man, oddly ageless. He stood between them, his smile diabolic. “My power is far greater than yours, my son. Dream, Brianna. Dream of your great love, Aidan.”

Brianna cried out and Aidan felt her fear. He wanted to rush to her, but he didn't dare. In absolute dread, Aidan stared at his father. “What do ye want of me?”

“What do I want?” Moray asked incredulously. “You want to
make love.
” His blue eyes glowed red with demonic rage.

Aidan shook his head, but he understood. His desire was not demonic. Somehow, his father knew it and would make one of them pay for it.

“You should lust for the pleasure her life can give you, but you stand there, stricken with
desire,
” he hissed. “Did you think I would fail to remark it?”

“I take power every day,” Aidan said harshly. His gaze was on Moray, but he was acutely aware of Brianna standing behind his father, as pale as a ghost. “Brianna, wake up,” he ordered.

Brianna seemed near tears.

“She can't wake up,” Moray said coldly. “You haven't taken power, not a single time, since you brought her from the future to Awe.”

It took Aidan a moment to realize that his father was right. He was stunned. But he met Brianna's frightened gaze.
I willna let anything happen to ye,
he told her silently.
Ye need to wake up now.

Brianna just looked at him, and he knew she hadn't heard him.

“She can't hear your thoughts. I've made sure of it,” Moray laughed.

“Wake up,” Aidan cried to her. “Get out of this dream!”

“I'm trying,” she cried back. “The sleep is too deep. It's too heavy!”

His alarm escalated as he turned to look at his father. “What have you done to her?”

Ignoring the question, Moray said, “You
healed
her today. I am so disappointed, Aidan.” His smile was mocking.

His father knew everything, Aidan thought, and rage began. But he felt a terrible moment of helpless despair. “Tell me what I must do now in order fer ye to leave her alone—in order fer her to awaken.”

Moray snarled, “You still protect her, an Innocent. When this day is done, I will own your soul.”

“Fine,” Aidan cried, meaning it.

“Aidan, whatever he wants, no!” Brianna cried, trembling.

Aidan met her gaze. He was beginning to feel that they were both awake but trapped in the dream world anyway. But she had to be dreaming still, didn't she?

He had to awaken her; he had to get her out of this dream. Moray had come with some terrible, evil intention, and Aidan almost suspected that he had engineered the dream for them.

He was half in and half out of the dream. He started to step completely out of the realm, so he could awaken her, but he was blocked by a great and invisible energy.

Moray laughed.

He met Moray's wide, cruel smile. “I have the power now,” his father murmured.

Frantic, Aidan tried to step out of the dream world again. He smashed into another invisible wall.

Brianna cried out, clearly aware that they were both trapped now.

Moray snarled, “I have spent over a hundred years on your fall, and now you embrace a white witch with your heart—and your soul!” He shook with rage. “I own your soul. It belongs to me!”

“Ye took my son. I murdered innocent men, women and children. When will ye be pleased?” Aidan cried. “What more can I give ye?”

Moray whirled and seized Brianna. Then, to his surprise, he shoved her into Aidan's arms. Brianna clung, looking up at him, shivering in fear.