Kissed by Darkness(34)

Varan swore. Anxiously, I gripped the younger man’s arm, “Tell me Varan is it done? Did you succeed?”

“Yes, my Lord Danu. The Bloodline is safely hidden, and the humans and my people hunt the last of the Nightwalkers. There is only the Key.”

A faint blue light pulsed in the absolute black of the cave. I clutched the amulet, fevered eyes drinking in the dying light. “I am sorry, Varan. So very sorry.” He and his descendents should have been the Guardians of the Key until the time was right for it to be reunited with the Bloodline. The last part of the plan had failed.

The only hope now lay with future generations. Perhaps there would be a distant son of Atlantis who would one day discover our tomb and become the Key’s Guardian. That was how I had designed it, after all. But still, sorrow clutched at my soul, a soul already far too faded.

I felt Varan smile, if a bit sadly and grip my hand in his. Softly he whispered, “It is all right father. I forgive you.” I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself.

The faint blue light finally went out. The rich, metal tang of blood filled my mouth as the sickness at last took over my body. There was no one to hear Varan’s screams.







I sat bolt upright in bed, a scream ripping at my throat. Barely holding it back, I sat for a moment, gasping for breath and trying to collect myself. A dream. Just another stupid dream. I had been the priest this time. I could still smell dirt and the taste of blood lingered in my mouth.

I tried to recall some of the other details from the dream. I had a bad feeling the cave the priest and Varan had been trapped in was a little too familiar.

I closed my eyes and brought the details into focus: smooth floor, rough dirt walls, and an earthenware jar leaning against a low flat stone. A beautiful mural painted along the back wall. Yes, it was the same cave, the cave where the knight from my other dream had found the ancient bodies, where he’d been attacked by a corpse that should have been dead for thousands of years.

The attack, the ocean colored eyes, the dusty tabard, the familiar face, it was all clear. I knew for sure now who I’d been dreaming about, or at least who the knight was. I was also fairly certain that it was no dream.

I scrambled to the edge of my bed and yanked open the drawer of my nightstand. I dug around until I found the card I was looking for and pulled it out. Jack Keel. It made all too much sense. Jack had been a Templar Knight, a Templar who’d been transformed into something that was more than human, yet not quite vampire. Jack was the knight in my dream. He had to be. But who was the priest and how did he fit in?

I needed to talk to Jack. I needed to find out for sure if what I was dreaming was real and what it had to do with me. I yanked down the covers and that’s when I saw I was still wearing my black T-shirt. The one I’d been wearing last night. The one I’d had on when Inigo kissed me.

I gaped at my bare legs. No jeans. I double checked. Panties firmly in place, thank the gods. I was alone in my bed, no sign anyone else had been in it with me. Granted, it was hard to tell. I flopped about in my sleep like a fish. My bed pretty much consistently looked like it’d been hit by a hurricane.

I hesitantly reached out and felt the extra pillow. No heat, but that didn’t exactly mean anything. I leaned over and took a deep whiff. Just the scent of my shampoo, nothing else.

What the hell had happened? I racked my brain, but came up totally blank. He’d been giving me a massage. I’d gotten all hot and bothered. I felt my cheeks heat. Yeah, definitely hot and bothered, and I wasn’t the only one. He’d picked me up, held me against him. We’d both been very aroused, no doubt about that. We kissed and then … nothing. I couldn’t remember a damn thing after that.

OK, yeah, I’d been hotter than a furnace and ready to go. That I most definitely remembered. In fact, I was getting a little overheated just remembering it, partly from embarrassment and partly from my overactive libido. But that was all I remembered. I couldn’t remember anything after that kiss. In fact, the kiss itself and everything leading up to it was a little fuzzy. The more I tried to remember the details, the fuzzier they got.

There was something about his eyes. What was it? I tried to call up the memory, but it refused to come, retreating deeper into my mind.

I shook my head. No use prolonging the truth of the matter. Something really weird had happened. I just wasn’t sure exactly what kind of something. I wasn’t even sure how far we’d gone, though I distinctly remembered being ready to go just about as far as two people can go. I just wasn’t sure if we’d gone there. In fact, I couldn’t even remember taking my clothes off.