Chapter Twenty-Two
As she stared at the Dearg-Due, Lassi’s skin crawled like a billion mites covered her skin. The wind whistled around the barn in a low moan, but it was barely noticeable over the screeching inside her head.
Remnants of her legendary beauty, from her star-like eyes to her silvery, gossamer hair, were dulled by her pale, bluish-gray skin. Anguish, coupled with a look that could only be described as violent madness, shone on her face.
“I thought she was the most beautiful woman on the planet,” she whispered, her hands still smashed to her ears. “Time hasn’t done her any favors.”
“No,” Cillian said. “It hasn’t.”
The Dearg-Due lunged at Lassi.
Lassi screamed and leaped backward. Without thought, she turned and ran.
“You know where to go, Lassi!” Cillian bellowed. “Don’t let her grab you, touch you, or catch you.”
“Like that’s easy.” A nasty, hot wind assaulted her nose. It smelled like wet fur mixed with decaying animal. She glanced to her right.
The Dearg-Due raced beside her, her lips parted, exhaling fetid breath in her direction.
“Cillian!” Lassi screamed. “Do something!”
“I’ll meet you at the grave,” he called.
“What if I don’t get there?” she cried.
“Not an option,” Cillian said, sounding far, far away. “Make sure the red-blood sucker stays inside the stones.”
“What stones? They’re everywhere,” she screamed, but her words were whisked away by the assaulting wind.
Lassi cut right, off the main road, heading for the beach in the most direct manner she could think of—down the rocky hill. Her flashlight beam bobbed wildly, making her hasty race treacherous. She snagged her toe on a rock, and she catapulted toward a hard-slamming collision. Scrambling to keep from falling flat, she got her legs underneath her. Dim sparkles appeared before her eyes in a snake-like trail.
The stones! Follow the stones.
A large shape, outlined with luminous green, zig-zagged to her left. This must be fear hallucinations. I sure hope that’s Cillian.
As they drew nearer to the grave, the Dearg-Due hesitated, slowing her sprint.
Ah ha! She knows that’s her prison! I’ve got you, bitch.
The Dearg-Due gazed around wildly, as if realizing she’d been tricked back to her prison. She turned to face Lassi. Pure evil flashed from her eyes. Every hair on Lassi’s body stood at attention.
The vampire’s mouth opened wide, revealing sharp, pointed fangs. Unable to escape the confines of the path, she lifted her arms in front of her, and raked her bony hands at Lassi in a crazy, erratic slashes.
The screaming in Lassi’s head increased. She fought for control, trying to source her magic to assist her. Powerless to find relief from the terrible noise, she scanned the ground for some sort of weapon, training her flashlight in every direction.
The vampire stopped her crazy arm waving, and stared at the hole in the ground meant to contain her. Her silvery hair rippled in the wind. Her eyes glowed red. Then, she pivoted and stared at Lassi. Once again, she struck like a cobra, slashing the air in front of Lassi’s face with her long, claw-like fingernails.
Lassi leaped to the side. “Hold on here.” She gasped for breath. “Let’s think things through. You don’t need to kill people. You know that, right?”
The Dearg-Due hesitated and cocked her head.
“We can figure things out and put them to rights. I sure know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the same luminous shape she’d seen, moving toward her.
The Dearg-Due shook her head.
“I don’t think she can understand you,” Cillian whispered from behind the tree. “Know any Gaelic?”
“Shite. I sucked monkey balls in that class.” Lassi searched her brain for hints of language class.
The vampire let out a low, hissing growl. She swayed side to side like a restless beast.
The hair on Lassi’s head prickled. “I get it,” she said, in a shaky voice. “Betrayal sucks.”
A monstrous snarl ripped the air. The Dearg-Due’s clawed hand lashed the air in front of Lassi’s face.
“Whoa,” Lassi said, arching backward. “Feck me for not paying attention in class.” She strung together a mash up of Old English and Gaelic and hoped she said, “I’m sorry you were betrayed by your father.”
The vampire blinked and again cocked her head, as if trying to understand.
“Close enough,” Cillian whispered. “You said you were sorry she was fucked in the ass by that donkey.”
She glanced toward Cillian’s luminous outline. “Bloody hell. How’s this?” She formed another mishmash of words, hoping for, “Why did you kill Dylan, Ailis, and Liam?”
The vampire’s eyebrows stitched together. She shook her head. Her mouth opened and closed, open and closed. Finally, she held up one finger.
“Are you trying to tell me something? You need me to slow down? You want my full attention? I swear to God, I’m listening harder than I’ve ever listened in my life.”
The vampire shook her head again. Her silvery hair whipped around her head, buffeted by the wind. In a rasping voice, she managed to say, “One dead.” Then, she switched to Gaelic.
“What did she say?” Lassi hissed over her shoulder.
“Man with child. Man who spoke of Ailis in his sleep,” Cillian murmured. “Ask her if she’s certain.”
“You’re the Gaelic expert. Why don’t you ask her?” Lassi snapped.
“I doubt if she’d answer. I’m her captor, after all. And if she knew I was here, she’d be livid.”
Lassi halted. “Um, how can she not know you’re here? I can hear you fine.”
“It’s a Leviathan thing. Think of it as a cloak of invisibility. Only, I don’t think I can cloak Gaelic.”
Lassi’s fingers curled into fists. “Great. Another wonderful notion from Cillian Ward. ‘I think your magic is strong enough. I don’t think I can speak to you in Gaelic right now.’ Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.”
A low rumbling growl came from the vampire.
“Hurry! I’m surprised she hasn’t tried harder to lure you in and take you apart by now. She must like you.”
“I’m a nurse. What’s not to like?” Lassi sighed and searched her brain again. “Are you certain you killed only one?”
The Dearg-Due shook her head.
Lassi recalled the Gaelic word for dead. She held up her forefinger. “Only one marbh?”
Again, she nodded, speaking in rapid Gaelic.
“Translation, please,” Lassi hissed.
“She said, ‘the man who frowned and spoke of Ailis in his sleep’. She could smell the blood of the others, but they were not her acts.”
“How is that possible?” Lassi tried for another sentence. She hoped she managed an approximation of, “How did you know he was dreaming of Ailis?”
The wind picked up force, assuming an almost hurricane velocity. Waves crashed on the shore and surged around her ankles, dragging the sand under her feet as it sped away.
“This surf. It’s coming up kind of high, don’t you think?” She’d never seen the waves reach this far.
“It’s probably her. Keep going, love.”
The Dearg-Due began to pace.
Another wave joined with the last one, surrounding her legs with water.
Lassi shrieked, struggling for purchase on the watery sand. “The grave site! It’s disappearing!”
A string of Gaelic, fast and furious, flew from the vampire’s lips. Spittle sprayed from her mouth as she spoke.
Lassi began to back away. She caught the “always Ailis,” and the word for dead repeated over and over. “Cillian. What did she say?”
“She’s saying it’s always Ailis. Her husband had an affair with a woman named Ailis. I think you flipped on her hot button.”
“No, shite.” She held up her hands in a placating manner. “That was a long time ago. It’s over. You’ve had your revenge. Now, let’s be calm, shall we?” The pitch and volume of the shrieking in her head reached deafening heights. She fell to her knees in the surf, trying to ward off the noise with her palms. “Cillian,” she cried. “It’s unbearable.”
“Get up, Lassi. It’s time to act, not get answers. Try to maneuver around her and shove hard, aiming for the grave, without being torn apart. You can do it. Draw from your incredible strength. I’ll shift and dive into the sea and gather rocks.” He rose and began running toward the water’s edge like some glowing high-tech outline of a man.
The incredible strength I didn’t know I possessed? That one? Lassi staggered to her feet. She swayed like she had one Guinness too many, trying to maneuver behind the vampire.
The Dearg-Due assumed a crouch. She began rolling her hands, one over the other, like she was spinning yarn or conjuring. As her hands moved, she muttered some sort of throaty incantation.
A compelling force, too strong to resist, began to tug at Lassi. Icy fingers wrapped around her shoulders, waist and legs and pulled. “Cillian! Help! She’s doing some strange magic.”
A few yards away, his luminous shape appeared to whirl to face her. His hands cupped around his mouth to yell over the howling winds. “You’ve got to resist! We have to work together.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lassi muttered. She dug her feet into the ground.
The vampire’s hands kept spinning their magic, drawing Lassi toward her.
Lassi threw herself on the ground. The impact forced the air from her lungs.
Another wave washed over her head.
Sputtering, she tried to roll away. Maybe I can swim away from her spell. The magical force yanked her to her feet. “Cillian! Cillian! I can’t fight this.”
Thunderous footsteps powered toward her as Cillian raced from the sea’s edge. He reached her side and yanked her by her arm toward him.
She fell back as whatever magic Cillian wielded tugged her free of the vampire’s magic.
“You!” the vampire roared, speaking in English, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You’re the one who traps me!”
“Everyone, stop! This is the Garda!”
All three heads whipped toward the voice.
“It’s fecking Galbraith,” Lassi cried.
“Galbraith, stay back,” Cillian bellowed. “Don’t go past the path of rocks. She’ll have you, then.”
“I can handle myself,” he shot back.
“Not this time,” Lassi called.
The Dearg-Due, wild with bloodlust, directed her hands toward him, rolling them over and over one another. She muttered and mumbled in Gaelic.
He flew into her grip like a bird hell-bent for a window.
“No!” screamed Lassi.
With inhuman strength, the red-blood sucker threw the chubby man to the ground as if he weighed nothing. She straddled him with lightning speed. “You lie. You pretend. You make nice.”
He let out a horrified cry. She plunged her claws into his throat. His cry turned into a gurgle. She fell upon him like a crazed beast and began to feed.
Lassi began to pant. She fell to her knees.
“Get up! I’ve got to go retrieve rocks from the ocean floor. You can do this, Lassi.” He whirled and powered toward the sea.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God,” she cried. She lurched to standing. Her head began to buzz. Sparks flew from her fingers. “I’m going to lose it,” she said, her voice sounding hysterical. She spun in circles. “I’m about to faint. Cillian! Help!” She whirled toward the Dearg-Due and shook her hands, trying to get the damn buzzing to stop. “I’m going to electrocute myself.”
Lightning bolts shot from her fingers. They flew toward the vampire and sent her sailing into the air.
With one last, horrible scream, the Dearg-Due fell backward into her grave, sucking the ghastly screeches from Lassi’s ears.
A huge wave washed the shore, drawing grit and dirt free from the hole under the vampire’s body. When it surged back to sea, it drew sand over her like a wet, watery blanket.
From the shadowy sea, giant boulders flew, landing on top of the vampire and her grave.
Her cries became muffled as rock after rock landed with thuds and cracking noises. And then, she screamed no more.
Lassi cupped her hands around her mouth. “Cillian,” she yelled. “Cillian!”
The wind and waves were her only answers. She rushed toward Galbraith’s body. Falling to her knees, she pressed her hands on his chest, as if she might do CPR.
His head bent at an odd angle. His eyes stared at nothing.
Pull yourself together, girl. He’s dead as dead can be.
Another wave surged toward him, dragging his nearly severed head to face the other direction.
Cillian, in ripped and ragged clothes, stumbled back into view, staggering from the sea. He sank beside her, dripping with sea water. “Are you okay?”
His Leviathan gaze scanned her face.
Lassi shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay, from this point forward. Nothing in the emergency room prepared me for what I witnessed tonight.”
Cillian wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “You did good, Lassi. You responded to the call and worked your magic.”
“So, why do I feel so weak? I can barely lift my arm.” She gasped for breath.
“The thing about magic,” Cillian said, struggling to speak, “is this. The more powerfully you use it, the more it takes from you in return.” He inhaled one, long shuddering breath, as if to make his point.
“Shouldn’t someone have mentioned that to me?” She leaned into him, trying to draw strength from his warm body.
“I know, love.” He kissed her cheek. “This is all new to you. But you’re a quick learner. You’ll master your skills in no time.”
“Well, that’s all right, then. If you say so. You can teach me to pull a rabbit out of a hat later. But, as soon as I’ve had a wee rest, let’s go back. We have to call someone for Galbraith.”
A click, followed by a beam of light falling on their faces, startled her. She shielded her eyes with her hand and lifted her gaze.
Penny stood over them, dressed in her butcher’s apron, like this was another night at the pub. “Well, well, well. There you are. The little love birds.”
“Penny?” Cillian said.
“That’s me.” A manic smile formed on her face.
“What are you doing here?” Lassi said. She blinked and pushed away from Cillian.
“Oh, I thought to ask the Father here to give you last rights. Before I shoot you.” She whipped a gun from behind her back and pointed it straight at Lassi’s head.