Love's Eternal Embrace (5 page)

“It is I, brother.” Diarmuid pulled away to
search his face, his brows suddenly furrowing into a frown.

Liam refused to acknowledge the look of
concern shadowing his brother’s gaze. He knew he’d changed since
his time with Glamis. His skin was paler, his eyes brighter as if
he was fevered, but in truth he felt stronger.
He was
stronger
. “What brings you here?”

“Your last letter spoke of your return to
Lochmere.”

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. He
hadn’t forgotten, but he had prayed his family might have given up
hope of his return. He hadn’t expected them to send a search party.
“I found a place here.” His gaze shifted to Jarvis who stood behind
the bar. “A tankard for my brother, please.”

“Coming right up, Sir Liam.”

“You have settled here?” Diarmuid chuckled.
“There is nothing here, but farmers. There is no castle befitting a
man who is destined to one day be Lord of Lochmere.”

“I like where I am. It is peaceful.”

Diarmuid’s brows furrowed. “You are one of
the Knights Templar. You are a Cantwell, a warrior. It is in your
blood to take up arms.”

Liam opened his mouth ready with a retort,
but Jarvis arrived with two tankards of ale. Liam nodded his thanks
and waited for the man to return to his duties. Liam’s gaze
returned to his brother’s once more. “I did my service. I am tired
of warring. I wish to be left in peace.” He would love to confide
in his brother the true reason, but he couldn’t chance it. Not many
would understand. Most would choose to condemn Glamis for what she
was.

Diarmuid studied him over the rim of his
tankard. “Father is ill. Mother does not believe he will survive
another winter. You are the eldest. You must return.”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to see his
mother and father, but he feared if he left he would not be able to
return for some time, if ever, and he could not bring Glamis with
him. She would not be safe. “Let’s not speak of dire needs. Let’s
celebrate our reunion instead.”

It only took a little more encouragement
before his brother finally relented. Liam didn’t indulge as much as
his brother had, but it was on purpose. He wanted his brother to be
fast asleep when he made his visit to the forest. He couldn’t risk
his brother following him there.

Once the night wore on and his brother began
to slur his words, he helped him upstairs to his room. He tossed
him on the bed. The ropes groaned in protest as the dead weight
plopped down hard.

Diarmuid chuckled. “I believe I’m right
bladdered, brother.”

“Aye, that you are.” He removed his shoes and
covered his brother with one of the fur coverings.

His brother grabbed his arm before he could
leave. “On my travels here, I was warned to turn away. They say
this village is haunted by a fiend.”

“Nonsense,” he claimed. “I’ve lived here
months and have seen no fiend.”

His brother’s gaze held his. “They say the
fiend drinks blood and cannot come out in the day. They say she has
found herself a knight to keep her warm.”

“Well, good for her.” Liam chuckled, but fear
clutched his gut. “I do hope it is the drink talking, dear brother.
There is no such thing as a blood sucking fiend.”

His brother licked his lips as if he wanted
to say more, but finally his lips curved into a slow smile. “You
are right. I have had too much to drink and my tongue is fanciful
this night.”

Liam patted his brother’s shoulder. “Sleep it
off. You will feel better at first light.” He was almost out the
door when his brother stopped him, his voice sobering with his
question.

“You will break fast with me, so we may
discuss father, will you not?”

He turned to meet his brother’s gaze. “Of
course. I’ll tell Jarvis to fix us a hearty meal.”

Chapter Ten

Liam should have known better, but his
thoughts of joining Glamis for a few hours clouded his mind and in
truth, he never believed his brother would prove a threat. He still
thought of Diarmuid as the youth he left behind, but his brother
was no child. He was a man now who feared for his older brother’s
safety. Liam had not returned home as promised and when Diarmuid
ventured out to find out why, he heard the stories about the fiend
that lived in the forest.

Diarmuid stood before him now with men
flanking his side ready to do his bidding.

Loucetios whinnied and complained, not liking
his freedom compromised with his reins tied to a tree. Cormac stood
back behind Diarmuid, shaking with fear. He was not sure if his
squire feared him or his wrath for leading his brother here.

“I am sorry, Sir,” his squire hurried to tell
him. “But your brother tricked—”

“Silence,” his brother warned. His squire
lowered his head.

“What is the name of this, Diarmuid?”

“Do you go to her, the demon,” he clarified,
“with your own free will?”

“I know of no demon.” He made a move toward
Loucetios, but his brother withdrew his sword. The scraping of
metal told him the others did likewise. His gaze leveled on
Diarmuid. “Do you plan on slaying me?”

“Only if you do not come peaceably. Your soul
can still be saved.” Diarmuid glanced at the cloud-covered sky
before narrowing his gaze on Liam again. “Step fully out of the
shadows.”

He knew what his brother’s ploy meant. He
wanted to see if he would burn once the sun’s rays hit his skin.
The day proved overcast and dreary. Even Glamis would not burn—at
first. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug of indifference and
stepped forward as ordered.

He stood there as his brother stared at him.
Waiting.

“Well?” Liam held out his hands to the side
in question. “What now? Shall I dance for you next?”

“Do not mock me.”

“It is not my wish to do so. I am trying to
understand the meaning behind your ploy here. You have drawn a
weapon against me. You have dragged my squire out here, and you
hold my horse prisoner. And for what? So you can talk of demons as
if you expect one to swoop in from hell’s fire and drag us back
down.”

His brother’s stance faltered, but then his
gaze shifted and Liam knew his brother’s gaze locked onto his neck,
where the small pinpricks stood out against the paleness of the
skin. His brother inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. “You
protect her, Liam. Seize him,” he ordered his men.

Liam withdrew his sword. He could not let
them take him. He would not allow them to torture the truth out of
him. He would not give Glamis’ whereabouts freely, but even the
strongest and the bravest had a breaking point.

The first man came forward. He flipped his
blond strands out of his eyes with a shake of his head and grinned
at Liam. He swung his broadsword across his body as if he planned
to fell a tree. Liam’s sword clanged against the blond man’s weapon
in protest, blocking his advances. The other darker haired man
moved with intent, but Liam whirled to greet him, his sword making
contact with the man’s neck. The man’s sword slipped from his hand
as he fell back, his life’s blood leaving his body in spurts of
red. He returned to the blond man whose face had lost all color as
he stared at his fallen friend. The blond man took a step back and
Liam lowered his sword, believing the fight was over, but his
brother surprised him for the second time this day.

Diarmuid flew at him, his sword thrusting
forward. “Better you die now than later at the demon’s hand.”
Before Liam could react, his brother’s sword pierced his side.

He met his brother’s gaze in disbelief.
Indeed his brother looked horrified as he yanked his sword out of
his flesh. Liam staggered back and fell on one knee. His hand
gripped his side where the blood soaked his jerkin.

Aaaaaah!

The cry of agony pierced the air, like the
call of a banshee ready to swoop down and claim the doomed.

Liam glance toward the forest in fear,
knowing his beloved was coming. “Glamis, no.” Liam choked, spitting
up blood.

The wind picked up, whipping his strands away
from his face.

His brother lifted his sword ready to fight
whatever came at him. The blond man dropped his sword and ran, his
squire, Cormac close behind.

Liam gripped his side, trying to stop the
flow of blood. “Go, Diarmuid. Go before it is too late.”

His brother glanced at him. Sorrow filled his
eyes and the lines of age fell away to reveal the youth who once
loved him. “May God have mercy on your soul, Liam.” He raised his
sword then and Liam realized his brother’s intent. His eyes widened
in disbelief, but he could not defend himself. He fought battles
without injury, but he would die this day at the hands of his
brother.

Chapter Eleven

As the sword came down toward Liam’s neck, a
blur of color whipped by him, lifting him, and taking him away. It
felt like he was flying with the way the wind whipped against
him.

He closed his eyes, and breathed in the scent
of his beloved. “Glamis.”

The whirl of flight ended, and Glamis lowered
him to the ground. He opened his eyes and saw the tree tops above
him.

“Liam?” Her voice trembled with fear.

He reached for her and she grabbed hold of
his hand. “You saved me.”

Her lips curved, but the humor didn’t reach
her gaze. “I only prolonged your death.” She hissed and her fangs
lengthened. “The human will die for this.”

He squeezed her hand, staying her moves. “No,
let him go.”

“Let him go? If the sun shone brighter, I
could not have come to your rescue without burning alive. That man
you wish to spare would have gladly relieved you of your head.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand again. “But
you cannot slay him. Promise me you will spare his life.”

“Why?” Confusion danced in the depths of her
eyes.

“The man you wish dead is my brother,” he
told her.

Her brows creased. “This is the child you
taught to swim and to hold a sword? The snot nosed lad who followed
you everywhere?”

“Aye.” She remembered his tales of home and
in happier times.

“He is no boy,” she accused.

“No, I am not.” Diarmuid broke through the
foliage, like a man determined to do what he must to set the world
right. He pointed his sword at her. “You will die this day for
corrupting my brother. I saw the marks you left on his neck. I know
what you are.”

Liam cursed under his breath. “Glamis did not
corrupt me.”

“Glamis? The fiend has a name?” His voice
rose like thunder, condemning Liam. Glamis proved evil in his
brother’s eyes and no man should ever befriend such a creature.

“I will not have you call my wife names.”
They may not have taken their vows before a priest, but they
pledged their love the old way. They were married, and he would
raise his sword to anyone who said differently.

For a moment, Diarmuid lost his hostile
stance. “Your wife?”

Liam nodded. “You have a problem with her
then you have one with me as well.” He almost laughed at how
ludicrous that sounded. Of course, his brother had a problem with
him being with Glamis. Didn’t the hole in his side prove it well
enough? His gaze touched Glamis with determination. “If you love me
as you claim, you will not harm my brother. Before I die, I will
have your word on this.”

Glamis’ eyes glowed red, but then dimmed. “As
you wish.”

“Get away from him.” Diarmuid took a step
toward them, but stopped when Glamis bared her fangs with a hiss.
With preternatural speed born to her, she charged him. The sword
flew from Diarmuid’s grasp as she grabbed him by the neck and
dangled him off the ground as if he weighed no more than a
poppet.

“Do not kill him,” Liam rasped out. “You
promised. He is my brother, my family. I love him.”

Her gaze riveted to him in confusion and
disbelief. “You love him? Your life’s blood flows from your body
because of him. He calls me fiend, but it is he who is the evil
doer.”

Liam forced himself to sit up. He leaned
against the tree for support, clutching his side as pain ripped
through his body, reminding him of the hole in his side. Blood
seeped between his fingers to pool beside him, painting the ground
with red. He only had a few minutes before he lost consciousness
then his brother would not have a prayer. He would die this day,
too. “He did not mean to cause injury. He is young and still needs
to learn. You must show him you mean no harm to humans. It is the
only way to end this.” He coughed up blood and wiped it away from
his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “I beg of you, Glamis.”

She screeched her frustration at being denied
her kill. She threw Diarmuid away from her. His body slammed
against the tree with a thud.

Liam sighed in relief when a few moments
later, Diarmuid rose to his knees, drawing in a ragged breath.

Glamis knelt beside Liam, her hand on his.
Tears fell down her cheeks like beads of glistening light. “I have
not cried for centuries and I do not like how it makes me feel.” It
was all there in her eyes, beautiful, pain-stricken eyes. She was
born a
Dearg-due
. Her kind felt passion and pain ten times
over what a human felt in that regard. Grief would be no different.
He touched his fingertip to the corner of her eye, brushing away
the tears. “Do not mourn me.”

“You spoke the truth,” Diarmuid stood before
them, but far enough away so not to seem a threat. “You truly love
my brother.” He spoke to Glamis, witnessing the truth for
himself.

She didn’t answer him. There was no need.

“Change me,” Liam gripped her arm.

Her gaze riveted to his, stunned at his
request. “You could…” She let her words trail away.

“Die,” he finished for her with a chuckle.
“Love, I am already dead.”

She glanced to Diarmuid, waiting for him to
give the approval.