A Glow of Stars & Dusk by Eve L. Mitchell

We rantowards the tomb at the very back corner of the small patch of cemetery. The old tomb was crumbling, in dire need of maintenance, and as we ran towards it, I screamed when I felt the hand almost catch hold of my arm.

“Faster!” Ruairidh urged me as he reached the iron gate that led inside. “No!” I heard him yell and then rattle the gates. “They fixed the lock.”

Panting and out of breath, I fell against the iron, the gates stopping my run. “Seriously?” I hissed. “Get as much of your foot on the stone,” I instructed quickly.

“I’ll throw you over,” Ruairidh told me as he turned to the approach of our hooded pursuers.

“I won’t leave you,” I muttered as I slipped my hand into his. “Get your foot on the slab.”

We pressed against the gates in the vain attempt to make sure our feet were on the concrete.

The cemetery still had occupants, but the church and the accompanying manse were long gone, if in fact they had ever been here. Like unwanted memories, the headstones lay scattered and broken, and the grass lay unkept. However, no matter the upkeep of the cemetery, the tomb was still consecrated ground. The rest of the cemetery was not, but the tomb? The concrete had been blessed and was still decreed to be holy, and as long as our feet were on the stone, we were safe.

Six figures surrounded us in a semicircle, and I was sure I was going to faint.

Two threes.

What in hell’s name had my last client been wanting to know?

“How long can you stand on the slip of stone without faltering?” a voice asked me; I couldn’t tell which one of them spoke. The voice was different than before. I peered into their hoods, searching for the glowing green eyes, and was met with nothing but darkness.

“Until dawn,” Ruairidh told them boldly.

The fact they laughed caused me to shiver. “Are you human?” I asked fearfully.

“Do you think we are?” another voice asked menacingly.

That was a loaded question and one I wasn’t prepared to answer on a Friday night with the wind howling and the rain pelting down on my uncovered head, with six male beings watching me like I was an evening snack.

Ruairidh slipped his hands through the gate for greater purchase, and I felt him nudge me to do the same. Slowly so as not to draw attention to my hands, I grabbed the metal.

“You think that will stop us?” the same voice asked.

“I think you cannot touch me while I am on holy ground,” I answered with conviction. “Now why don’t you run off to whatever pit of hell you crawled from?”

I ignored Ruairidh’s whispered Jesus,Star and stood tall as I hoped to all things holy that they didn’t try to pull me off this stone.

“You’re bold.”

If he could see my shaking knees, he would know I wasn’t; I was surprised I was still standing.

“But you make an assumption.” The speaker raised his hand, and the snarling hellhounds were suddenly in front of us. “Tell me, witch, what do you see?”

I saw three massive dogs, no, not dogs, hounds, black coats and fierce like Rottweilers but massive and not as handsome. Their eyes burned red, their ears were pointed and stood upright like a Doberman’s, they were gigantic yet sleek. Their jaws hung open as they watched me, their fangs—yes, fangs—catching and holding my attention. I glanced quickly at their huge paws and felt my heart stutter at the razor-sharp claws.

“Nothing,” I lied. To see hellhounds meant death. The fact I had three of them in front of me did not bode well for my Friday night, never mind my weekend.

“You would lie on hallowed ground?” another of the six asked.

“If I was inside, I would be quite comfortable lying on the ground,” I countered. “But it’s not the night for an outside nap.”

One of them took a step forward. He was taller than the others, and I noticed the hounds stayed closest to him. In the dark of night, his eyes glowed faintly. Green. It was him. The one from my oak tree. Fear like I had never known clutched at my throat.

“You think this is a game.” His voice was the one from behind me earlier. It caused me the same shiver as it did when he had breathed in my ear. “This is no game, witch, and you have no advantage.”

Ruairidh froze beside me as the six closed in on us.

“Your friend can go, or he can die if he stays.” They spanned the entrance to the tomb grounds in a semicircle. There was no way through them; they were shoulder to shoulder and so close I could touch them if I wanted to. I really, really did not want to.

“I stay,” Ruairidh said with a croak in his voice, and although Ruairidh was a tall guy, the way he slouched his shoulders, almost like he was cowering, made him look small compared to the monsters around us.

“No one need die.” I tried to convince myself that the being I was locking eyes with was the leader, or Green Eyes at least. “I’m not a witch,” I carried on. I really wasn’t. I was a psychic, a poor one at that. Witch? Definitely not.

“She lies again,” one of them said to the group. He sounded furious, and I knew this one would show me no mercy.

“Or she does not know,” another one said. I didn’t recognise his voice, and I surmised he hadn’t spoken before.

My gaze kept darting amongst them, looking for any distinguishing feature, until I realised that the rain was not hitting them, the wind was not moving their clothes. I glanced at the dogs, the nearest one so close to me I could feel it’s hot breath on me. They were also dry.

“Why aren’t you wet?” I blurted. “Why does the wind and rain not touch you?” Silence answered me, and I could feel Ruairidh’s panic building. My hair slapped against my face as a particularly enthusiastic gust of wind swirled around us as the figures remained untouched.

“Does she have to come willingly?” one of them asked curiously.

She?I was she, wasn’t I? Willingly? Oh please say they needed my consent.

“She does,” Green Eyes said.

I almost slumped in relief. “I’m not willing,” I immediately said as I caught Ruairidh nodding emphatically beside me.

“Kill him,” Green Eyes instructed.

They moved forward with a speed I found alarming, and hands grabbed Ruairidh. He yelled out as they pulled him effortlessly from the gate. My mouth dropped open in shock, and then I was surging forward to grab Ruairidh.

“No! Leave him!” I screamed.

“Got you.” I was suddenly in front of Green Eyes. He took a hold of my arms, and then I was pulled into him as I heard the snarls of the hellhounds. My fists and feet connected with him as I fought to get free, but he held me tight. “Let me go. Ruairidh!” I screamed.

A hand covered my mouth as he spun me to face them, Ruairidh lying unconscious on the ground, the three hounds circling him, their saliva dripping onto the grass. “We can kill him,” he said in a low voice in my ear, “or you come with us, willingly, and he lives.”

The hand was lowered slightly. “Promise you won’t kill him?” I whispered as I looked at my friend.

“No.”

“Why would I give you my consent?” I tried to escape him again, but an arm that felt like a vice encircled my waist and squeezed the breath from me.

“Fine, I won’t kill him.”

I stopped struggling, but I looked at the other five. “All of you have to promise not to kill him.” I heard their scattered laughter, and I could feel my tears building. “I will not consent,” I hissed.

“Say it,” Green Eyes barked at the others. I heard their mutters, and then I felt Green Eyes loosen his hold. “Consent.”

My eyes closed as I sent a quick prayer to the heavens above. “Fine.”

“More.”

“I consent,” I said, my jaw tight, and his arm tightened around me. “Willingly.”

I was pushed away from Green Eyes, and I rushed to Ruairidh. Before I reached him, strong arms caught me, and I was lifted and turned away. “Best keep you out of harm’s way.” It was the quiet one who spoke.

“What? Why?” I frantically struggled until I was facing Ruairidh. The other four were standing over him, while Green Eyes was facing me.

Lightning crackled overhead, and he pushed his hood back. He was a man? Dark hair curled over his ears and hung in his eyes, those green eyes glowing softly as he watched me. Another flash of lightning, and I saw him clearly. Square jaw, straight nose, full lips. A cruel smile was flashed at me. “Do it,” he instructed.

My scream rang out in the night as the four attacked my friend. The one holding me turned me swiftly, shielding me from the sight of the beating Ruairidh was being given.

“You promised,” I sobbed futilely.

“Not to kill him, girl. They didn’t say they would not harm him.” His voice was sad. “Be more careful what you ask of us.”

“Can I ask you all to die?” I spat vehemently.

“You may wish it.” He sounded almost regretful.

“Make her quiet,” the terse voice spoke as Green Eyes strode past us both. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

I felt something soft caress my forehead, and then I was falling into darkness. I tried to hang onto consciousness, but I lost the fight pretty quickly.

* * *

A shutter was bangingagainst the window. It always came loose when the wind was high, and Ruairidh always fixed it with a “quick fix” and then promised he would get it fixed permanently. Then the next storm would come and laugh at his poor handiwork. Last time, Ruairidh pulled the shutter right off the wooden frame in a temper.

Why was it banging then?

Ruairidh…

I sat up in the bed and looked around the unfamiliar room. It was dark still, but it was October in the Highlands of Scotland; it could be any time of day. As last night came flooding back to me, I went to get out of bed before I realised I was no longer wet. My hand reached for my hair and found it to be completely dry. How long had I been asleep?

Quickly checking myself, I was still in my jacket and torn jeans. I felt the dry mud flake off as I ran my hands over my legs, and as I stood, I winced at the pain in my knee. Hesitating, I considered crossing the room to the door and finding out who, or what, took me or lying back down and hoping that when I woke up the second time, I would be in my own bed, in my house, clean and mud free.

I needed to open the door.

I stayed where I was.

They were scary. They had hellhounds. They were all taller than Ruairidh and were obviously descendants of giants. They were cruel. They lied. Okay, they hadn’t lied, they were flexible with the truth.

Ruairidh.

They hurt Ruairidh. I stormed across the floor and wrenched the door open with a fury I didn’t know I could possess. The bedroom opened onto a small hall and a staircase. I hadn’t even registered I was on the upper level. Taking the stairs, I stopped halfway down. A hellhound slumbered at the foot of the stairs.

Well, shit.

The dark of the hallway camouflaged the…dog? Hound? Monster? I studied it. Hound. Dog just wasn’t appropriate, and monster seemed harsh as he lay there asleep with his head on his paws.

As I got to the bottom stair, I realised I would need to wake the hound because currently it was too large for me to climb over, never mind step over. My eyes ran over it. I could totally ride this thing. It was like a pony in size. My hand was stroking down his fur as I curiously studied the animal. No, not fur. Leather? Hellhounds were hairless? The hound snuffled in his sleep at my touch but didn’t stir. Emboldened, I traced my hand over his shoulders and up to his massive neck. Even in sleep, the ears stood straight. They were a softer touch of leather, and as I rubbed it, the hound snickered. Unthinkingly, I scratched behind his ear, and with a small smile, I turned my head to see his back leg jerk as his head twitched.

When I looked back, glowing red eyes were watching me. My hand froze and my gulp was audible.

The hound regarded me intently. Very slightly, he tilted his head. When I didn’t move, it did it again. Realising what the hound wanted, I resumed scratching the ear. It endured my touch for a few more rubs, and then it stood.

Holy blessed mother, had it grown? It wasn’t this big in the cemetery.

There have been very few times in my life where I have been standing and been eye level with the animal in front of me. That this was a dog…terror was crawling up my throat, desperate for release.

The hound watched me. Patiently. As if it were waiting for my panic to be over, and somehow my own insane inner rhetoric was calming me down. Swallowing down my alarm, I forced myself not to freak out.

“I need past.”

The hound regarded me, and I swear if he had an eyebrow, he would have raised it.

“Please,” I added hurriedly.

The hound moved.

Ruairidh will never believe this. Ruairidh! Abruptly, the hound was forgotten, and I went in search of Green Eyes. Two males were in the kitchen, and a tiny part of my mind registered how absurd they looked in the small space, while the rest of me froze at how utterly terrifying they were. The kitchen light was on, the lightshade removed, and again my brain picked up on the fact it was because they would have kept knocking into it.

Huge didn’t cover it. They just ate up the space. One was blond, the other dark. One was light-skinned, where the other was dark. One had a beard, the other did not. One had a scar, the other had two. Both had blue eyes. Both were looking at me. I felt Hound at my back, and my eyes darted to the door that the blond one was only partially blocking. I could be fast.

The hound snuffed. The hound was laughing at me. I turned to look at it, and steady red eyes watched me back. I moved my attention back to the two…beings.

“Why—” My dry throat caused me to choke on my words, and as I coughed to clear my throat, Hound nudged me forward into the kitchen. “Why am I here? Where is Ruairidh? What did you do with him? What do you want with me?”

“How did you say his name?” the dark-haired one asked curiously.

“Ruairidh?” I asked stupidly.

“Slower,” the other one commanded.

“Rue-ree,” I said again.

“Row-ree,” the blond one said, almost with uncertainty.

“No. Ruuuue-ree.” What the hell am I doing? “Where is he?” I demanded.

“He lives.”

I spun to the voice of Green Eyes, who was now behind me, the hound gone. He filled the doorway, and I involuntarily took a step back. “You hurt him.”

“Did I?” In the light of the kitchen, he was more striking than in the cemetery. Thick dark black hair fell across his forehead, curling over his ears and lying over the collar of his dark tunic. A tunic? It fell mid-thigh over, wait, was he wearing leather trousers? My eyes lingered on his thighs before running down his legs—legs that had knives strapped to them—and heavy black shitkicker boots. I looked him over again before I forced myself to meet his gaze. That cruel smirk was there again, showing a dimple on his left cheek. His straight Roman nose sat over full lips. Forest green eyes assessed me as I took him in.

“You did.” I found my voice again as I looked over my shoulder at the other two, realising they were dressed the same way. “They did.” The other two were silent, their attention solely on me. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“No. We said we wouldn’t kill him,” Green Eyes told me, bringing my attention back to him. “He lives.”

“For now.”

I spun quickly to the other two. “What do you mean?” I asked fearfully.

A firm hand turned me back to face Green Eyes. “He lives as long as you cooperate.”

“What do you want?” My arms wrapped around my waist in despair. “I have no money, I have nothing of value. I have nothing to give you.” I could feel the tears threatening. I would not cry. I had to be strong for Ruairidh.

“You have something of great value,” Green Eyes said as his smirk returned.

“What?” I knew I looked as confused as I felt.

“Your blood.”

“What?” My shriek was enough to make him flinch.

“Lower your voice, woman, your screeching assaults my ears.”

“My blood? You’re going to kill me?” I was backing away from him slowly, the two behind me forgotten in my panic.

“Kill you?” He shook his head. “No.”

I heard the snorted laugh from one of them and a muted maybe later. I had backed myself into a corner, and I watched the three of them warily as I desperately thought of an escape plan. “I want to see Ruairidh.”

“Later.”

“Now,” I countered.

Green eyes narrowed on mine. “Later.” He glanced at the other two and nodded. The dark-haired one drew a very long, very sharp-looking knife and took a step towards me.

“He can slow the fuck down,” I hissed at Green Eyes, one hand raised to ward the other one off. “Why do you need my blood?”

“For the spell.”

“What spell?” I demanded. Spell? Oh Lord above, I had crazies in front of me.

“The spell you will cast for me.” He held out a piece of yellowed parchment, and I knew just by looking at it that it was skin.

“I can’t cast a spell.” My hand was still raised in warning to the other one as my gaze darted around the three of them.

“Why?” Green Eyes asked me shrewdly.

“Because I’m not a bloody witch. I’m a clairvoyant, not Helga the Horrible!” I threw my arms up in frustration at the three confused expressions. “Think Emma Thompson in Harry Potter, hardly one of the Macbeth witches.”

“What is she saying?” the blond one asked as he watched me carefully. “Is she speaking in tongues? I don’t recognise the dialect.”

I almost laughed, but Green Eyes grabbed my hand, and the sharp sting that followed as he sliced across my forearm with a knife had me crying out in pain. All three of them inhaled sharply, and I looked up from my bleeding arm, into a cold hard stare.

Green Eyes’ mouth hooked up in a smirk. “Blood doesn’t lie, witch.”