Firebrand (23 page)

She focused on the voices. A man. A woman’s. Garbled with an occasional coherent word. She guessed there was still too much of the drug still in her body for her to gain total control. She pressed her forefingers to her temples and listened harder, catching more and more bits of conversation until the woman’s voice finally exploded in her mind,

“You have got to be kidding!” Shock burst from the woman’s mind into Amber’s like a streak of white, hot light.

Heavy footsteps headed in her direction as Amber ran away from the door and flung herself back onto the bed. She closed her eyes and forced her body to relax as the lock turned and the door opened.

Amber heard rattling and then felt a pinch. She opened her eyes just a slit and saw Sinclair tying a rubber band around her upper arm. She braced herself for the needle stick, ordering her body not to move or stiffen. The sting of the needle followed the cold swipe of alcohol.

“Are you sure you need to do this?” It was Barbara’s voice.

“You saw. I need it.”

Amber tried to probe his mind to find out why but he was blocking her. She felt the strength leaving her. He was taking more than a draw tube this time. Dizziness settled inside her, followed by nausea and a feeling of helplessness.

Sinclair ran a hand along her jaw line. “Hmm, I wonder.” His knuckles tapped her cheek. “Wake up, Amber. We need to talk.” He loosened the rubber tourniquet and handed a full bag to Barbara as Amber’s eyes fluttered open.

“You’ve so much?” Barbara said. “She’s as pale as a ghost.”

“I told you, I need it. She’s the only one of her kind right now. The only one with the tri-bred cells.” He pressed a cotton ball to the puncture in Amber’s arm and bent it at the elbow holding it there. “But I’ll take only one today. Wouldn’t want her to die.”

Amber’s head lolled toward him. “Why are you doing this?” She purposely slurred her speech, deciding it would be best if he thought she was still drugged.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you.” He watched her carefully as she rose to sitting and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “You don’t seem to be going anywhere.” He turned in a small circle next to the bed. “Rather exquisite, this human form. I do prefer it and I need your blood to maintain it.”

“You took blood from me already in the labyrinth.” She looked at the reddened bag in Barbara’s hand. “But I assume you needed more.”

“Considerably more. I’m hoping to build up the tri-bred cells in my own body to keep my human form permanently but I’m not sure how much of your blood I’ll need for that.”

“I’m surprised you just didn’t drain me dry.”

“That would be killing the only source I have for the moment. That wouldn’t be practical.”

Amber licked her dry lips. “But it would stop the Triad.”

Sinclair paced. “I’ve been weighing the benefits against the drawbacks. I can still keep you from completing the ritual and still plunge the worlds into darkness.” He spun to face her. “My darkness, where I can maintain my human form and rule all three worlds forever.”

Amber gritted her teeth. “But you can’t keep taking my blood every day. Even I can’t regenerate it that quickly.”

“You may not have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the night at club in New York?”

“Lilu’s. I’d rather forget it.”

“It was the first time I tasted you, Amber. When we kissed, you cut your lip on my teeth and a small drop of the magnificent fluid inside you mingled with my juices. Later that evening, I prepared for The Taking and, while it did come, it came less painfully and did not last as long. It was then I suspected you may be the answer.” He locked his gaze with hers. “Your triocytes could very well be my cure.”

“Triocytes?”

“Yes, unique composites have formed in your plasma. The red cells of all three species have agglutinated, attaching themselves to each other.” He looked at her wide eyes. “Oh, yes, I’ve tried to take blood from humans, trolls and the fae and mix them together but it will not bond.” He sighed. “Unfortunately for many, it took me a while to come to that conclusion and much to their misfortune.”

Amber turned her head away from him, remembering the many bodies found at the edge of the ring. “You killed them? I think I’m going to be sick.” She pressed her hand to her mouth.

“I’m not surprised. In your condition.”

Amber lowered her hand and swallowed the queasiness that had risen to her throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Your blood is even more unique now. The agglutinated cells are stronger, more vibrant. There’s something there that wasn’t there before and I believe it could be the answer to my supply problem.”

Slowly Amber’s gaze locked with his. “You’re insane,”

One eyebrow arched as Sinclair looked positively amused. “You really don’t know? With all your powers?”

“Stop playing games with me, Eric.”

“I’m sure there’s no harm in telling you. You aren’t going anywhere and no one knows where you are.” A designing smile curled his lips. “You’re pregnant, Amber. The second of your species will arrive in nine months.”

Chapter Twenty One

Amber closed her eyes as shock washed over her. “If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny.”

“I’m perfectly serious,” Sinclair replied.

She thought about making a break for it, Barbara had left the door open but thought better of it. She was supposed to be in a drug-induced stupor from some sort of magical cocktail and besides, she needed to know what he knew about the Triad. Maybe it would help her find out what to do. She shook her head. “I’m not buying into that. It isn’t possible.”

“And why not? You’re here aren’t you? Apparently your half-breed fairy mother and your very human father were fertile enough. Why not you?”

Amber bristled with the nonchalant reference to her parents but held on to her restraint. “Leave me alone.”

She turned her head away from him but he grabbed her arm and pulled a syringe out of his pocket. “I can easily inject you again and examine you while you’re out but I’m not sure what effect that would have on your baby.”

“There is no baby,” she said through clenched teeth.

“So you’re a virgin then?” He laughed as she glared at him.

She watched him moved the needle toward her. “No,” she said, lowering her head.

“And what have you slept with?”

She snapped her head up. Feeling anger whip heat into her cheeks.

“No need to get defensive.” Sinclair handed the syringe to Barbara. “I’m merely trying to gauge what you may be carrying inside you.” He leveled his gaze with hers, “A fairy? A human” A…”

“Don’t even think it,” she warned him, her anger building, “I would never let a troll touch me.”

Sinclair’s laughter echoed around the starkly furnished room. “How do you know that one already hasn’t?”

Amber felt her blood run cold and the nausea return with a vengeance. Her stomach heaved and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Sinclair rolled his eyes. “Barbara, see to her. I’ll be back in five minutes,”

Barbara went to the bed and helped Amber up, guiding her to the bathroom. She opened the door and stood aside. Amber fell to her knees next to the toilet and heaved.

In a few minutes Barbara gripped her arm and helped her up. She handed Amber a glass of water. “Just tell him what he wants to know, Amber, please.”

Amber rinsed her mouth and then splashed water on her face. “You have to help me, Barbara.”

Fear hung naked in Barbara’s eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered, steering Amber back to the bed. “He’ll kill me, but not before he tortures me in ways that defy imagination.”

Amber sank back onto the bed, her head spinning. She looked up at the grayed ceiling. Her hand slowly moved to her stomach. Pregnant. It was true. She had felt something that last time she and David made love but she never thought it was the heat of conception.

She turned her head toward Barbara, wondering if she should try to overpower her and get out. But no. Sinclair said he would be back in five minutes. She wasn’t strong enough yet to take on them both. She’d have to wait it out.

Sinclair returned and sent Barbara out of the room. “So, your lover was human,” he announced.

Amber said nothing.”

“Of course it was. It couldn’t have been a fairy. You weren’t in Everwood long enough to form any bonds.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Unless, of course, your troll blood was boiling.”

She frowned at him, pressing her lips tightly together.

“I see you’ve had a little taste of your troll side. Primitive but thrilling, isn’t it?”

Amber turned her head away from him, letting her forearm rest over her eyes. She jerked as she felt a needle touch her skin and looked at him.

Sinclair sent her the smile she knew so well now, half ordinary, half twisted grimace. “It’s a weakened dosage. I don’t want to hurt the only other person who can offer me a possible cure to my curse.”

“If you hurt the…” she caught herself. She would not admit to him that she was carrying a child.

The needle’s sharp tip pierced her skin and she waited for the rush of heat she knew would come and burn its way into her brain and bring the darkness. But only mild warmth traced a path through her veins giving her a rush, like the sensation of falling, before it faded altogether. She was growing stronger. The diluted dose had little effect on her. For the first time since she found out she was different, she was grateful for her tri-bred nature. With all the bearing of a stage actress, she let her arm go limp and eyes fall closed.

But the fluid he injected had one effect. It brought on the dream again.

Dressed in a gown of pure white dotted by what seemed to be twinkling stars, Amber stood amid towering white obelisks and the ruins of ancient tombs with graying stone grave makers carved with ancient Celtic symbols. David was there too. Dressed in a dark hooded robe, he extended his hand to her.

“I don’t want to go,” she said, the sunlight that glinted off the golden dragon that fastened the cape to his shoulder nearly blinding her.

He extended his hand further.

“Please, don’t make me.” But she had no choice.

When she touched him, Teezal appeared, a small bundle in her arms. Amber felt her heart pound. She needed to see what Teezal was holding. It appeared to be a jumble of blankets but Amber knew better. She looked at David and her breath caught. A single tear trailed down his cheek,

She let David lead her to the edge of a pit. She couldn’t see what was in it, she only knew she didn’t want to go there. As she moved toward it with slow steps, her gaze shot to Teezal.

“Help me,” she pleaded. But Teezal stood still.

When she looked back at David, flames rose in front of her and she raised her free hand to protect her face from the intensity of the heat. The pit was ablaze, ribbons of fire shooting into the sky, scorching to black the sides of the obelisks near it.

“David, please,” she begged as he pulled her closer and closer to the fire. “I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to die.”

Behind her a baby cried. She turned as much as David would allow it and saw the bundle in Teezal’s arms move. Teezal unwrapped the blankets and Amber could see a tiny elfin face with silver eyes.

“A baby? My baby?” Amber turned back to David. “Our baby?”

He nodded slowly and put his hands on her shoulders.

Amber’s mouth flew open. “Ours.” The word came out in a rush of breath.

David said nothing more but simply pushed her into the fire.

The sound of her screams woke her fully.

* * * * *

“Amber!” David had heard her scream and knew he was close. He pulled himself higher on the cliff, the muscles in his shoulders burning with pain. He looked up. Another foot and he would be at the crest. Stretching as much as his human limits allowed, his hand found the rough edge of a root and gripped it tightly.

After what seemed like an eternity of testing, his foot found a toehold on a thin ledge of rock and he jammed the front of his shoe into the rock as far as he could. Whispering the fairy chant of strength Teezal had taught him, he shifted all his weight to the right and threw his left arm upward.

The fingers of his right hand tightened around the root, the muscles of his forearm quivering with the strain. Rocks and dirt rained down on him as his left hand searched for something, anything, to stop him from sliding away. Almost at the edge of nothingness, he felt the sharp edge of a rock cut his palm and he grabbed onto it with all his might. With a shout that summoned all his remaining strength, he pulled himself up and rolled onto his back, finally on solid ground,

He waited only seconds to catch his breath, before rising to his feet and raising the reassuring weight of the Sword of Adam. In front of him loomed the cold darkness of Castle Donahyde.

Once inside, he looked around. Torches burned on the walls, their red and orange flames dancing against the cold shadows. The temperature inside the corridor got progressively colder as he slowly followed the gray stonewalls deeper into the castle. At his feet rats scurried around corners, upset at the invasion of their territory. Ahead a metal gate hung open on its hinges like a gaping jaw. Beyond it stairs led down into darkness.

David’s breath frosted the air in rapid bursts as he grabbed a torch from its place on the wall and held it in front of him at the top of the steps. A feeling of otherworldliness gripped him as he descended two steps at a time.

At the bottom, he stopped, facing three doors. Numbness pulsated, an in-between feeling of neither upworld nor underworld that penetrated him.

“Amber!” he called out.

He took a step and a heavy purple mist greeted him.

“Show me which to choose,” he whispered.

The mist retreated underneath the right door and he followed. Almost at once a power seemed to surround him. Inside the corridor, a wind came up, whipping his hair into his eyes, making the air around him crackle with energy. Tightening his grip on the sword, he forced himself to remain calm and walked forward.

“I’m here, Amber,” he called out. “No one will stop me from finding you.”

“Actually, that’s not entirely true.”

David growled when he heard Eric Sinclair’s voice. Sinclair sauntered out of the shadows and raised his hand. The wind immediately calmed as though Sinclair was pulling the power back inside him.

“You trespass on my property, human,” Sinclair said, eyeing David with hatred. “If you value your life, you’ll drop your sword and leave.”

“I am here for Amber,” David replied, keeping his anger in check. He stood poised for the battle he knew was coming, carefully watching his opponent’s eyes. “You have no right to her.”

“Nor do you.”

Sinclair’s eyes became riveted on the sword in David’s hand before shifting to David’s face. “It seems you have something else I need.”

“I do indeed,” David replied, twirling the sword in his hand.

Sinclair laughed, although he did not look amused. “I’ll give you credit, human. You are resourceful to just get here but even clever humans die.”

A bad feeling surged though David. Was this all a setup? Sinclair seemed particularly calm with a sword drawn on him.

“Not today.” He raised the double-edged sword in his hand. “The right to defend Amber has been passed down to me through my family from the First One,” David replied coolly. “My heritage is her protection.” He lifted his chin. “And mine.”

Sinclair moved to within a foot of him. “And how does it feel to always have to stand behind the power and never really wield it?”

“That is my honor.”

“Honor means nothing when you’re dead.” Sinclair unsheathed a sword of his own. It filled the room with blinding white. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

David raised his arm to shield his eyes. Sinclair had dissolved into an indistinct black outline. Risking blindness, David used his hand as a screen spreading his fingers as much as he dared. He had to determine where Sinclair stood.

“The Sword of the Fae,” David said remembering that it had been hidden at the castle.

Sinclair hissed. “Magnificent, isn’t it? A thousand times brighter than the sun. Look upon it if you dare human.”

David squinted into the brilliance. “You won’t win, Sinclair. I won’t let you.”

“You’ll have no say from the grave!” Sinclair spat right before he attacked.

However, David had anticipated it. Sidestepping, he dodged the blow, training his eyes on the ground and focusing on the shadow of Sinclair’s feet. With a sharp downward thrust he felt his blade connect with Sinclair’s body.

The wound dimmed the radiance of the Sword of Light enough for David to finally see. When he looked at Sinclair he could see a deep gash in his arm. Blood spewed from the wound and pooled on the floor at Sinclair’s feet.

“The odds are tipping,” David said, circling closer. “The Sword’s energy ebbs when blood is drawn.”

Sinclair merely looked down at the gash and smiled. “Not for long.” David watched the wound on Sinclair’s arm begin to heal. It would take something more than a blow to bring him down. The battle had just begun and he didn’t have much time before the Sword of Light regained full energy once more.

Two blades met in a loud crash. The sound of scraping iron and ringing blows echoed around the stone walls of the long corridor in which they fought. The air around them responded to the rapid strikes with gusts of cold wind and the shaking of the ground beneath their feet.

With each blow the swords struck, what seemed to be lightning flashed inside the confines of the walls. With each strike the brightness intensified, forcing David to raise one hand to block out the intensity and fight with the other. With the next parry, he felt the sting of Sinclair’s blade across his thigh and the light of Sinclair’s sword suddenly dim. Staggering backward, he dropped his hand to his leg and felt the warmth of blood greet his palm. With great effort, he shifted his weight to his uninjured leg and held his sword in defensive position.

Sinclair saw the blood stain grow on the material surrounding David’s wound and grinned triumphantly. The shadows in the dimly light hallway distorted his features to reveal the vile and evil thing that he was. “It seems the fairy sword has a decided weakness,” he snarled.

“It is does not like the taste of blood. It was not meant to kill,” David said.

“It will learn,” Sinclair promised, circling.

“Not if I find a way to stop you,” David growled. But he was hurt and it seemed the end would only come in a test of wills.

“Come then,” Sinclair baited, “Come taste your death.”

David saw the imminent strike and wielded his sword upward, meeting Sinclair’s downward thrust. He gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, willing the energy inside him to radiate to the blade. “I will not die today,” he said through clenched teeth. “It is not my destiny.”

“But it is your weakness,” Sinclair contradicted.

“And my strength,” David replied without hesitation.

Uncertainty flashed in Sinclair’s eyes for the briefest moment, replaced quickly by hatred. “Then embrace your failings, human and yield.