16 - Caomhnóir

 

 

Keegan carefully studied the residence of his target from his perch on a rooftop a few hundred yards away. It looked like all the others houses in the area, two-storied with pinkish stucco walls and a brick-colored tiled roof. One car sat in the carport, another in the drive leading up to it. Keegan was quite certain that none of the neighbors had any concept about the depths of depravity and evil in the beast that lived there. To them he was just a middle-aged family man with a wife and daughter who, at the moment, were living in their primary home in another city.

 

Tapping a thumb against his lips, Keegan searched for a way to enter the house safely. The last thing he wanted was any outside interference. He already knew there were two humans inside, bodyguards for the terrorist. Not that they were needed, but no one knew that other than Keegan and those of his order.

 

In the darkness of the moonless night Keegan moved from one rooftop to another, landing so softly the homeowners would be completely unaware that he was above them. Finally he finished circling the terrorist’s house and had the answer he’d been seeking.

 

Dropping to the ground, he moved silently to the rear of the house. There he paused to give the window that had interested him one more careful look. Then he was on the balcony, hunkered down so that the light from another window wouldn’t reveal his presence. He inched his way to the one he wanted, pausing, opening his mind to make certain the room it led to was empty.

 

Moments later he slipped his fingers into the narrow crack between the window and the sill. Someone had been careless not to have closed it all the way and that was what had drawn him to it. With it not fully shut any alarms on it would be rendered null and void. He eased it open just enough to slip inside, finding himself in a bedroom that obviously belonged to the terrorist’s daughter from the way it was furnished. Crossing to the door, Keegan pressed one ear to the paneling, listening for any sounds even as he sought for thoughts that would indicate someone was in the hallway.

 

Deciding it was safe, Keegan inched the door open just enough to make a visual check. The hallway was dimly lit, unsurprising considering the late hour. A thin sliver of light escaped from under a door at the far end of the hall. Inching step by careful step down to it, Keegan paused, again attempting to pick up any stray thoughts, both from the person or persons inside the room, and anyone else in the house.

 

A tight smile crossed his lips when he found one of the bodyguards was still on the lower floor. It took two minutes to make his way down the stairs, and another one to locate the bodyguard’s exact position relative to where he was standing. Keegan was in the office, his flail connecting with the man’s skull, before his victim was even aware that he was not alone. The crack of spiked metal on bone was sharp and quick. Keegan caught the body before it could hit the floor, and with one quick slash of his kahnjarli across the man’s throat he finished the job the flail had begun. After depositing the body behind a sofa at the far end of the room, Keegan went back upstairs.

 

 

15 - Caomhnóir

 

 

Thom paced the backyard patio, two thoughts fighting for supremacy in his mind. The first was the one which always overrode any other when Keegan was gone. Would he come back whole and uninjured? And, this time, would he come back at all, considering who his foe was? No matter how often Keegan assured him that what he did was much safer than even Thom’s job when it came down to it, Thom would never stop being afraid for him.

 

And now there was another worry piled on top of that.

 

Even though Thom was certain that Darius had been lying, there was still the niggling thought that there could be some truth in his words. What if Keegan did indeed have someone he cared for or loved in each century in which he spent his years away from here? Until last night that idea had never even occurred to Thom. He took Keegan’s love, which he thought was deep and abiding, and gave it back in kind.

 

Thom had been faithful to Keegan from the moment they had admitted their love for each other. Despite Keegan’s half teasing words that Thom was free to sleep with any women he wished to, to relieve his physical needs, Thom had never even considered doing that. For him it was Keegan or no one.

 

“But what about you,” Thom muttered, staring up at their bedroom window. “Do you have many lovers, one in each century, all of them as important to you as I seem to be?” He turned away, staring up at the dark, cloud-filled sky above him. “Nine centuries,” he murmured, still talking to himself. “In all that time, there have to have been other men who loved you and received your love in return.”

 

A stiff wind sprang up, filled with winter’s chill, and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. “Damn you, Darius,” he cried out angrily. “Damn you for making me doubt him.”

 

 

14 - Caomhnóir

 

“Come on, sweet thing,” Keegan said in perfectly accented Hindi. “You know I don’t want to harm you. I just need to know where to find him.”

 

“I swear, I don’t know,” she replied in a trembling voice as she struggled against the bonds that restrained her.

 

Keegan smiled tightly. Asking a question like that was tantamount to telling someone not to think of the word elephant. Of course once that was said it was impossible for the person not to think of elephants. So it was with the woman, although a bit more pressure had been required to bring the exact location he was seeking to the forefront of her thoughts.

 

Of course he wouldn’t tell her that. He tapped her temple with one finger. “Consider the options if you don’t come up with the answer. I’ll return in an hour.”

 

With that he strolled out of the room. He had no intention of returning as he had the information he needed. If she was lucky someone would find her sooner or later. For his sake he hoped it was later as that would give him more time to prepare for the battle to come.

 

His next stop was at a small shop on a teeming street in the center of the city. Using the information he had extracted from the woman, he gained entrance to a back room there. A man, the nephew of the Scriostóir that Keegan was seeking, swung around from what he’d been doing.

 

“Who are you?” the nephew asked angrily as he placed one hand on the gun riding on his hip.

 

“A compatriot of Rashid’s.” Keegan then spoke three words in the local dialect and the nephew relaxed. That was his first and last mistake. “One word, one sound from you and you will be dead, with no redemption,” Keegan told him with quiet ferocity as he pressed the double-curved blade of the kahnjarli against the man’s throat while holding him tightly against his chest.

 

Then Keegan began questioning the nephew, each question eliciting a shake of the head from the man, and once a muttered, “You will never learn that from me.” After punishing him for speaking with a deep jab into his jaw with the point of the kahnjarli, Keegan continued his questions, drawing the answers from the nephew’s thoughts. Finally, satisfied that he had learned all that he needed, Keegan dispatched the drug-dealing terrorist by severing his throat. Dropping the body on the floor behind some packing crates, Keegan slipped from the room, jammed the lock, and proceeded quickly back to the street.

 

His next stop would be his final one, one way or the other.

 

 

13 - Caomhnóir

 

Three days after Keegan left, Thom was feeling the pressure. Going off to deal with some human piece of wickedness was bad enough, but at least he knew Keegan would return alive. When a Scriostóir was thrown into the mix there were no guarantees.

 

On top of that, it had begun to sink in that Keegan looked exactly as he had when they’d met, while one glance in the mirror told Thom that he was getting older. He was no longer a cute young nineteen-year-old. He was twenty five now, and he could have sworn he saw the start of fine wrinkles around his eyes if he looked hard.

 

“Enough,” he admonished himself. “He said my age didn’t matter to him, so grow up and believe it’s true.”

 

Leaving the bathroom and the evil mirror behind, he went to get dressed for work. It was early still, but he couldn’t bear the thought of hanging around the empty house. A few minutes later he was locking the front door behind him while deciding what he could do to kill the next couple of hours. Then he remembered someone at work mentioning a new art gallery which had just opened. “Might as well check it out,” he muttered as he got into his car and pulled out onto the street.

 

The gallery was in an older but redeveloped area of the downtown. After finding a parking space a block away Thom strolled up the street, enjoying the slight nip in the air that said winter was approaching but not too quickly. When he entered the gallery he was immediately entranced by the artwork hanging on the walls, as well as the three sculptures taking up a place of prominence in the center of the room. While he wandered from one painting to another, taking in the beauty of the subjects, he suddenly felt as if he were being watched. When he turned and saw no one other than the gallery clerk, he chalked it up to his imagination.

 

An hour later he reluctantly left the gallery. Since it was Sunday and parking was free, he knew he was lucky to have found the spot he had. So he decided to walk the few blocks to the restaurant.

 

Six exhausting hours later he was wishing he’d taken the chance of finding somewhere closer to park. Bidding good night to his co-workers he started down the street.

 

“Keegan lets you out on your own?” someone asked, causing Thom to tense in fear for a second before he recognized the man who had stepped out of the bar next door to the restaurant.

 

“Of course he does, Darius. Not that he would try to stop me. He trusts me just as much as I trust him.”

 

As Thom kept walking Darius came up beside him, smirking slightly as he matched him step for step. “So you’re meeting him somewhere or going home?”

 

“If it’s any of your business, which it isn’t, I’m heading to my car and then home.”

 

“Where he’s waiting, keeping the bed warm.”

 

“That also is none of your damned business, Darius.”

 

Darius put a hand on Thom’s arm in what seemed to be a consoling manner. “Touchy, touchy. Does that mean he’s off on assignment somewhere? Are you feeling lonely and stressed?”

 

“Back off,” Thom growled, pulling his arm away sharply.

 

“I’m just concerned for your welfare. I know how Keegan is, any bed in a storm, something he’s apparently never told you from the look of shock on your face. Do you honestly think he’s faithful to you while he’s off doing what we do?”

 

Without deigning to reply, Thom walked rapidly down the street, trying to ignore the knowing laughter that floated after him.

 

12 - Caomhnóir

 

 

It had taken Thom two weeks to make a decision about the budding relationship between him and Keegan. For the first week he refused to see or have anything to do with Keegan, telling him he needed the space to work out his feelings. Reluctantly, Keegan had agreed, using the time to go off on an assignment so that he couldn’t break his promise to stay away.

 

The second week the two men had spent time together, just talking. Keegan answered questions and at the same time found out a bit more about Thom in exchange.

 

The third week—

 

* * * *

 

Thom smiled, remembering, as he continued to watch Keegan pack in preparation for his newest assignment.

 

Keegan cocked an eyebrow. “First you’re all worried, now you’re smiling? Got a heavy date while I’m gone?”

 

After popping Keegan a hard one on the ass, Thom told him what he’d been remembering.

 

Keegan smiled in turn. “That was a hard fought battle, but worth it, though there were a few times there when I was dead sure you were going to walk away. Especially when I explained what All Hallows Eve meant in terms of my coming and going.”

 

“That was a hard one to deal with, knowing that you’d vanish for a year or even more if you were ordered to.”

 

“I always come back though, to you,” Keegan said quietly.

 

“I know, and after six years I’m getting used to it. I just wish—” He sighed, changing the subject. “Dinner out and then—” he pointed to the bed.

 

“How about dinner in bed? We order something fantastic and you get to be the platter.”

 

“Why me?” Thom asked with a very fake pout. “Maybe I want you to be the platter.”

 

“We’ll trade off.” Keegan marched across the room to stand as close to Thom as possible without actually touching him. “You’re dinner, I’m dessert.”

 

Thom backed away a step, grinning. “Nope, visa versa.”

 

“Don’t argue with me. I’m older and wiser. We do it my way.”

 

Putting his hands on Keegan’s chest, Thom propelled him backwards to the bed. Keegan reached back, feeling for his bag, sweeping it onto the floor, and then tumbled onto the bed, pulling Thom down on top of him.

 

“Dessert,” Keegan muttered, tangling his hands in Thom’s hair.

 

“Nope. Appetizer. Now.”

 

Those were the last real words spoken for a long time, and food played not part at all in the evening.

 

 

11 - Caomhnóir

 

Keegan nodded. “All of us are dead. We died while committing one of the seven deadly sins, the Biblical ones which are close to but not exactly like what are taught by the various religions. After we die we go to the vale of dead sinners. There, depending on what we were like when we lived, we’re sent to face one of the Rialóir Deiridh, the final or supreme leaders of each order.”

 

“God or Satan?”

 

“No.” Keegan smiled slightly. “That’s, I guess you could say ‘religion specific’. This is beyond that. The sins may be Biblical, and why that is I can’t tell you because I don’t know, but this is more than Biblical. This is Universal in the true sense of the word. Anyway, back to what I’m trying, not too well, to explain. I was given the choice of spending an eternity of suffering for what I had done, or becoming a Caomhnóir. Since dead is dead, I decided to make the best of it.”

 

Thom cocked an eyebrow at that. “So you haven’t been brought back to—to what? Real life? You certainly seem quite alive and quite human, well other than that mind reading thing, and those weapons you were carrying. By the way I keep forgetting to ask why you just left them behind after you came to my rescue. And then there’s that, too. Why did you even bother saving me? I’ve got to be a really small fish in the pond compared to what you usually do. And how old are you?” He took a deep breath, and laughed. “I’m rather rattling on, aren’t I?”

 

Keegan smiled. “You are, but that’s understandable. To answer your questions, first off it would be hard for me to do my job in a non-corporal form. So, to all intents and purposes I am almost as human as I was when I died.”

 

“With a few extras tossed in I’d presume or you’d be pretty useless.”

 

“A few, yes. I’m hard to dispose of since, being dead, you can’t really kill me.”

 

“Seriously? So you’re immortal?”

 

“I should amend that. Humans and other mortal beings can’t kill me. Another Caomhnóir could. So could any Scriostóir, if I got stupid and let them close enough to try. And any of the ceannasaí, the commanders, can destroy us as well. A sort of fail-safe in case we rebel, or go off the deep end.”

 

Thom grew very pensive as he took all that in. For a long few moments he remained silent, as did Keegan. Finally Thom said with great seriousness, “Then, in essence, you are a slave to the, what did you call him, your supreme leader.”

 

Keegan smiled tightly. “I prefer to think that I am one of his foot-soldiers, but yes, I suppose that in essence I am. I have been, for the last nine centuries.”

 

“Holy hell, nine—” Thom’s look turned to one of shock, tempered by a small amount of amusement. “So if this thing between us is real and works I’ll be dating a much older man.”

 

“In terms of time on earth, yes, although—.”

 

“I get the picture. You don’t age, I do, so there will come a time when I look like the old one even though I won’t be.” Thom shook his head slowly. “That’s going to be hard to cope with, but I will if you can.”

 

“It sounds as if you’re at least considering loving me.”

 

“Oh, there’s nothing to consider. I do love you. But there is still a lot I have to know and get used to before I let it happen. And that made absolutely no sense at all.”

 

“The words didn’t,” Keegan agreed with a smile, “but the intent did.”

 

“Before you answer the rest of my questions, there’s something I need to know. You’re in service to this leader, whether you call it being a foot-soldier or a slave, and right now I fail to see the difference between the two. Is there any way to break whatever contract you have with him and gain your freedom?”

 

Keegan sighed deeply. “None that I am aware of, short of a final death, which is something I’ve contemplated over the past centuries. In the end however, I value what life I have, and my usefulness in this world, too much to force the issue.” His took Thom’s hand in his, holding it tightly. “And now, more than ever before, I have a reason to keep on existing. Or,” he met Thom’s gaze, “I think I do.”

 

“If I’m that reason, then I suppose so.”

 

“That was kind of a betwixt and between answer, Thom.”

 

“Because I’m still feeling that way. This isn’t something to rush into you know. Even if you were human. Oh hell, sorry, that I shouldn’t have said.”

 

“Why not? It’s the truth.” Dropping his gaze, and Thom’s hand, Keegan said, “Take all the time you need to decide.”

 

 

 

10 - Caomhnóir

 

They negotiated their way in to Thom’s bed after much dancing around the subject, mostly in fun at the start, but turning much more serious and sexually charged as the evening wore on and midnight came and went. Thom wasn’t quite certain why he’d agreed but he had, and never from that moment on had he regretted it.

 

For two weeks they spent every night together, each of them unable to get enough of what the other offered. Then, at the beginning of the third week, Keegan closed the door to Thom’s apartment behind them, kissed his lover heartily, and told him seconds later that they needed to talk.

 

He’s going to tell me it’s over Thom thought morosely as he sat down in one corner of the sofa, waiting for the axe to drop.

 

“No, Thom, it’s far from over,” Keegan said, taking a seat at the other end of the sofa.

 

“What are you doing, reading my mind?”

 

“I could say your thought was written on your face, which it was actually, but that wouldn’t be the entire truth.”

 

Thom’s eyes widened. “You’re trying to suggest you really did read my mind?”

 

“Yes,” Keegan replied with total sincerity. “It’s one of the things that I can do now.”

 

“Okay, this is fast turning to weird beyond belief. Do you mind telling me exactly what sort of game you think you’re playing here?”

 

After taking a very deep breath, Keegan said. “To begin with, I wouldn’t be doing this if I hadn’t fallen deeply in love with you. Don’t,” he held up a hand to silence Thom, “Don’t say anything please until I’ve finished. I think you feel the same way towards me, but you’re afraid to admit it even to yourself because love doesn’t just hit out of the blue. It takes time and getting to know someone and learning to care for them and about them before you can love them.”

 

Thom nodded slowly. That was exactly how he felt. You don’t just fall in love in a matter of a couple of weeks, especially with someone you know nothing about. However, as much as he’d fought the idea, he had.

 

Keegan smiled, remaining where he was seated but reaching out to place one hand on Thom’s knee. “I have things I need to tell you about me, things you’re going to find hard or impossible to accept. All I can say is that they are true.”

 

“I’m listening,” Thom replied quietly, covering Keegan’s hand with his own.

 

Choosing his words carefully, Keegan said, “I belong to a very special and unique breed of—I suppose you could call us humans although we’re not quite that any more. I am a Caomhnóir. That’s Gaelic for Guardian. There is an opposing order, the Scriostóir, which means Destroyer. Damn, this is hard.”

 

“Just say it, Keegan.”

 

 

 

 

9 - Caomhnóir

 

After the night of the attack, Thom figured he’d never see Keegan again. The man had walked him home as promised and then turned and walked away with a brief “Goodbye” flung over his shoulder.

 

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that the whole thing finally sank in. He’d been saved by someone who, except for his modern clothes, could have been a warrior from some ancient time. And, Thom thought, puzzled, just where the hell had Keegan stashed his weapons once the fight was over. He certainly wasn’t carrying them during the walk to Thom’s apartment building.

 

“Very, very weird,” he murmured as he finished washing up and picked up his toothbrush. “En guarde,” he said, striking a fencer’s pose, the toothbrush his sword, before laughing softly. “That’s about my speed,” he said to his image in the mirror.

 

The next few days passed as normal, the only reminder of that night the slowly fading bruise on his side. Then one evening, as he left his job at the restaurant and began walking home, Keegan appeared at his side. “Care for some company?” he asked.

 

Thom looked at him in surprise. “I—Sure, why not.” They walked in silence for a few minutes before Thom said, “I never expected to see you again.”

 

“Same here,” Keegan replied. “But for some reason I can’t seem to get you out of my head.”

 

Stopping abruptly, Thom turned to stare at him. “That sounded decidedly like a come-on line from a bad television show.”

 

Keegan shrugged. “Be that as it may, it’s the truth.”

 

With a small smile, Thom replied, “I’ve been thinking of you too. It’s not often I get rescued by a man armed with ancient weapons.”

 

“I would hope that has never happened to you before. I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in such situations that you would need to be.”

 

It was Thom’s turn to shrug. “I’m gay, which seems to rile some people’s feathers.”

 

“Isn’t that supposed to be ‘ruffle’ feathers?” Keegan asked with a chuckle.

 

“Either/or. It still happens. Something I’d have thought you wouldn’t be aware of.”

 

“Meaning you think I’m straight.”

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

Keegan smiled. “I’m not. Therefore we have at least one thing in common.”

 

“Other than you saving my life?”

 

“There is that, so I think you owe me a reward.” Keegan’s face was serious but his eyes twinkled, something Thom picked up on immediately.

 

“I can do that. Would a drink at the local club work?”

 

“To start with, yes. From there, well, we’ll negotiate.”

 

 

 

(8) Caomhnóir

“How soon?” Thom asked, the usual fear for the safety of his lover underlying the two words.

 

“In the morning,” Keegan replied as he made one more check to be certain he had everything that he would need.

 

As soon as he’d arrived home to find Keegan packing, Thom’s mind had pictured every possible scenario of what could go wrong, as it always did. He just prayed that Keegan would be dealing with a mere human, not a Scriostóir. Keegan soon disabused him of that idea since, from the moment that the two men had realized there was more between them than just friendship Keegan had been completely open with Thom.

 

* * * * *

 

They had first met late one night in a dark back alley of the city. Thom instantly knew how stupid he’d been to use it as a shortcut, but he’d done it before with no problems. That night was different. As he hurried down the alley three men had stepped into view from shadowed doorways, surrounding him, jeering and taunting as they closed in, bats or iron bars in their hands. He’d tried to run but they made escape impossible as they herded him towards the alley wall.

 

He’d cowered there, arms over his head to protect it, waiting for the first blow to fall. When it came, a glancing blow to his side, he’d cried out in pain.

 

Then a voice he would come to know in all its permutations said, “Cowards. Three on one? I think not.”

 

“Shit!” one of Thom’s attackers growled.

 

Thom peered out from under his arms, expecting to see a policeman. Instead there was a man of about twenty five, dressed in casual clothing, carrying a sword in one hand, a flail in the other. The man immediately put the latter weapon to use, wrapping it around the bat one of Thom’s attackers held, yanking it from his hand. Then the sword flashed down, severing the tendons in the attacker’s wrist.

 

The second attacker began circling the man, his iron pipe held defensively as he looked for an opening even as his face registered disbelief. The third man opted for the wiser choice and fled down the alley.

 

“Do you really want to take me on?” Thom’s rescuer scathingly asked the man holding the pipe. When the attacker held his ground, the flail was swung again. This time though it bit through flesh, the sound of cracking bone coming seconds before the shout of anguish from the attacker.

 

“Remove yourselves, now,” Thom’s rescuer ordered, uncaring that both his victims were bleeding and moaning in pain. “If I ever see you again, I shall not be so lenient.”

 

The two men fled, not looking back.

 

“Now, for you, let me see how badly you are hurt.”

 

“I’ll live,” Thom told him. “I owe you my life. I don’t know how to thank you, sir.”

 

“It’s Keegan, not sir,” the man said as he beckoned Thom away from the wall. “And I do intend to make certain that you’re all right. So lift up your shirt.”

 

Thom did, at the same time telling Keegan his name.

 

“Well, Thom,” Keegan said after gently probing the bruised area on Thom’s side, “you’re correct, you will live and nothing was broken, although I for one would get checked out to make certain no ribs were fractured.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Thom then shook his head. “No fracture. Been there, done that, it doesn’t hurt to breathe.”

 

“Been attacked before have you?” Keegan asked, frowning.

 

“No. Just a bad fall off my bike when I was younger.”

 

Keegan nodded, not taking his eyes off of Thom. After a long moment he said, “I’ll walk you home, or to your car, or wherever you were headed before so foolishly coming down this alley.”

 

For a few seconds Thom debated and then said, “Home.”

 

(7) Caomhnóir

 

Alasdair tapped his chin as he listened to Keegan’s plan. Finally he said, “With a few modifications it will work. Finding him will, of course, be the hardest part. A man such as he does not stay long in one place despite the fact that he has a family.”

 

“A family as intent on terrorism and expanding his illegal drug activities as he was before his death.” Keegan paced the office, his boot heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “If I start with his siblings and nephews I should be able to bring him out of the woodwork.”

 

“Never forget what he is, Keegan.”

 

“My polar opposite, I know. However he is eons less experienced than I.”

 

“That makes him no less dangerous. He was not offered the choice to become a Scriostóir for his good looks.”

 

Keegan smiled at Alasdair’s small joke.  “I am well aware of that.”

 

For the next half hour they worked diligently to refine Keegan’s basic plan into one that should be successful without endangering anyone other than Keegan and his foe.

 

When they were finished, Keegan cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask.”

 

Alasdair nodded. “Which would be?”

 

“While I’m gone, keep an eye on Thom.”

 

A frown creased Alasdair’s forehead. “Do you not trust him?”

 

“Hell yes I trust him! However I do not trust Darius.”

 

Placing his elbows on the edge of his desk, Alasdair laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them as he stared at Keegan, contemplating what he had said. Finally he asked, “Do you have reason not to?”

 

“Nothing specific, no, just a feeling of unease where he’s concerned. We ran into him at the club last week. He made it a point to let me, and Thom, know that he was not particularly pleased that we were together. Oh, he made a joke of it, and went off in search of someone to keep him company for the night, but I could tell that he was more than half serious. Then he showed up outside the club as we were leaving. Coincidental, perhaps, but I don’t want to take the chance that it wasn’t.”

 

“I understand. I can send him off sooner than I’d planned for the job I’ve got in mind.”

 

“If you do he might suspect there’s more to it than just getting an early start. Besides which there’s nothing to keep him from coming back whenever he feels like it. I’d much prefer that Thom has some protection, something neither he nor Darius would be aware of.”

 

“Very well, I shall set something up.”

 

Keegan bowed his head slightly, saying “Thank you, mo ceannasaí.”

 

“Just complete the job successfully. That will be all the thanks I need.”

 

 

'Return to Blackmont Ridge' is out today!

 Return to Blackmont Ridge

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/return-to-blackmont-ridge-p-4647.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXNG1XZS

 

GENRE: Gay Paranormal Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 38,225 words
RATING:

His name is Cailean and he's a wolf shifter. However, he believes he is Tom Clayton, a popular author of mystery and paranormal books.

One night he meets Gib, a seemingly homeless man, and offers him shelter in the lobby of his condo building. Gib takes advantage of that to visit Tom and tell him its time for him to come home, his real home. Baffled, because his condo is his home, Tom angrily tells Gib to leave, which he does, suggesting he consider two things -- Cailean and Blackmont.

Then, Tom has a dream about a shifter called Cailean who is banished from his pack for being a deviant. Gib is also in the dream, only his name is Gerulf.

Gerulf, still posing as Gib, returns to talk with Tom and is able to convince him the dream is in fact a memory of his earlier life resurfacing, that his true name is indeed Cailean, and that they had been lovers before his banishment, twelve years previously. It will take more than that, however, to awaken all of Cailean's memories. First, he must return to the pack's village at Blackmont Ridge to meet his father, the Alpha of the pack.

What ensues might change Cailean and Gerulf's lives forever -- if they survive.

NOTE: Story contains talk of rape and incest.

EXCERPT:

"What's the village like?" Cailean asked as they ate. "Obviously I don't remember, except the brief glimpse I had of it in my dream, and you never said."

"Like any small village in the middle of nowhere. It's mostly cabins for everyone who lives there, but there's also a general store, a bar, a tiny diner, one church, and a school along what you could call the main street. Think of the westerns you've watched, but without hotels, or a jail."

"Because if someone breaks the pack laws they're summarily banished or killed?"

"You got it. Since no outsiders visit, there's no need for hotels."

Cailean frowned. "How can it stay so hidden? Nevermind. I looked for Blackmont Ridge on one of the map sites using the coordinates I found on a history site. It's just forest from what I could tell. I suppose the buildings are pretty much hidden under the cover of the trees."

"Exactly. Invisible even from fly-overs and so remote the chance of a hiker happening on them is almost zilch. There's a wide stream not too far from there where we used to go to get away from everyone."

"It didn't show up on the map site, but I suppose it's as hidden as everything else."

"Never having checked it out I couldn't say, but I suspect so." Gerulf replied.

By then, they'd finished eating so they paid the check and returned to the car. As Gerulf had said, the dirt road they needed was almost five miles from town. It was very narrow, shaded by the branches of the large trees on either side, and ended suddenly at a spot barely wide enough for Gerulf to turn the car around before he parked. They got out and Cailean followed when his lover began walking into the surrounding forest.

It took a good twenty minutes before Gerulf came to a stop. "Now, we teleport the rest of the way. Are you ready?" he asked, putting an arm around Cailean's waist.

Cailean nodded, took a deep breath, and replied, "As ready as I'll ever be."

* * * *

They landed in what appeared to be a living room, albeit a small one, with roughhewn log walls. A man, standing at one of the windows, turned as if sensing their sudden arrival. His eyes widened in obvious surprise.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Cailean knew from his dream that this was his father, although despite his true age he only appeared to be in his early forties, as was the way with shifters. Ulfric glanced at Gerulf. "You brought him here?"

Gerulf nodded. "He needs to ... to get to know you again, I suppose you could say."

"Again?" Ulfric lifted one dark eyebrow in question.

"I don't have any memories of you or this place, other than of my banishment," Cailean said defiantly, stepping away from Gerulf while gazing at his father. "When Gerulf offered to help ... Well, here we are."

Ulfric frowned as he stared at Cailean. "How can you have forgotten?"

"I suppose a psychiatrist would say --" Cailean froze when the front door opened and a man started to enter the room.

"What the hell! You were warned, Cailean," the man spat out.

At the same moment the block on Cailean's memories dissolved and they flooded him, filling him with the horror he'd been hiding from. He began to shake, his breath coming in rapid pants as he gripped Gerulf's arm. "Get me ... out of ..." he managed to say.

Gerulf wrapped his arm around Cailean. Seconds later they were beside the car. "Get in," he said succinctly. He looked as if he was about to pass out from exhaustion and Cailean knew it had to be the result of his teleporting them from Ulfric's house so soon after taking them there. Shaking head to toe, Cailean managed to get into the car. Gerulf did as well, started it, and sped as fast as it was safe to drive down the dirt road to the one which would eventually take them into town.

As he drove, Gerulf asked, "What was that all about with your brother?"

"I ..." Cailean gulped in a deep breath. "Not now. Later." He clenched his hands together, trying to regain some semblance of control over his tumultuous emotions. To his relief, Gerulf merely gripped his shoulder momentarily while remaining silent.

 

 

(6) Caomhnóir

 

 

“You know,” Thom said later that evening as he and Keegan left the club, “Darius is actually the first of your people I’ve met, other than Alasdair of course. I don’t know why, but for some reason I thought all of you were Gaelic.”

 

“If that were true there would be hardly any of us, since Gaels are notoriously good and kind people and devout non-sinners, me being the obvious exception.”

 

Thom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. So, are you actually going to meet up with him somewhere?”

 

“I rather expect I shall, if for no other reason than to make certain he leaves you alone.”

 

“Come on, Keegan, he wouldn’t really try to mess with me would he?”

 

Keegan stopped walking, turning to put his hands on Thom’s shoulders. “His sin was sowing discord among brethren. Even now he likes nothing more than to stir up trouble, which in certain circumstances comes in useful. This is not one of them. As I said, I’ll make certain he doesn’t bother you.”

 

Thom nodded, his mind flashing back to the last time someone had ‘bothered’ him, and he shuddered. Keegan immediately wrapped him in a tight embrace.

 

“He’s not like them, mo ghrá. He might try to separate us, if he’s in the mood, but that would be the worst of it.”

 

“The worst?” Thom looked at him. “I can’t think of anything more horrible than loosing you.”

 

“Thomas Aloysius Mulloy, how many times will I have to tell you, that will not happen,” Keegan said firmly.

 

“Forever Keegan o Broin, because hearing it makes my heart stand still and then beat with joy.” He took Keegan’s hand, placing it over his heart.

 

“So I see.” Keegan smiled softly as he threaded his other hand through Thom’s hair, tugging enough to bring his lips within kissing distance. “Is breá liom tú, Thom.”

 

“Damn, you two, get a room as they say.”

 

Keegan looked over Thom’s shoulder to see Darius standing there, his arm around the waist of a barely legal twink. “Night, Darius,” he muttered before going back to what he’d started, kissing Thom thoroughly for several moments, savoring his passionate response.

 

Therefore, he missed the hateful look Darius shot at Thom before turning swiftly around, causing his companion to give a small cry of surprise as he stumbled forward. “Keep up, or go home,” Darius hissed, striding away.

 

(5) Caomhnóir

 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Keegan grumbled as he and Thom collapsed against the railing surrounding the dance floor.

 

Thom snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible, all things considered.”

 

“Yes, well—” Keegan reached for him, pulling him back against his chest. “Perhaps you’re just trying to tire me so much that I’ll be unable to have my wicked way with you later.”

 

“As if.” Thom wriggled his ass and chuckled when he felt Keegan’s cock respond. “I don’t think you’ll have the least bit of trouble.”

 

“Keegan!” The shouted word was followed almost immediately by the appearance of a tall, dark-haired man wearing clothes that left nothing to the imagination. “When the hell did you get back in town, how long are you staying?” The man threw his arms around Keegan, apparently totally ignoring that Thom had to move quickly out of the way for that to happen.

 

Keegan however was well aware of it, tugging Thom back to him the moment the man released his hold. “I have just returned, Darius,” Keegan replied somewhat formally. “And if you please, or even if you do not, be polite. You almost tumbled my man back onto the dance floor.”

 

Darius pursed his lips in amusement as he eyed Thom. “Tam bellum hominem. You are lucky, my friend.”

 

“Did he just call me beautiful?” Thom asked.

 

Keegan nodded. “And in Latin no less, to show off his erudition,” he muttered with a shake of his head.

 

“He’s—” Thom started to ask.

 

“A show off, right Darius?”

 

“And just a bit jealous as well,” Darius added with a grin at Thom. “I always wanted Keegan. Apparently you have something I don’t if he considers you his man.”

 

“Manners to start with,” Keegan said, gaining a laugh from both men. “Darius, this is Thom, and like me he is off limits.”

 

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Darius replied, kicking a foot up against the wall and leaning back, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the dance floor.

 

Thom, seeing that Darius’ attention was elsewhere for the moment, turned his head to whisper to Keegan, “He’s one of yours, isn’t he?”

 

Keegan nodded, knowing that he meant Darius was a Caomhnóir, not some ex-lover. “And very old, much older than I.”

 

“He looks it,” Thom said with a grin, earning an arched eyebrow from Keegan.

 

“I heard that, you two,” Darius growled before pushing off the wall, his gaze fixed on a young man on the dance floor. “I catch up with you later, Keegan.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Keegan muttered as he started back towards the bar, keeping Thom close beside him.

 

 

(4) Caomhnóir

 

 

“Sexy,” Keegan declared as his gaze raked over Thom. “I am not certain I should let you leave the house like that.”

 

“Says the man whose pants are so tight they leave nothing to the imagination. And that shirt, Keegan, where in the world did you find it?”

 

Keegan grinned wickedly. “I believe it was one I absconded with during the Revolution.”

 

“French or American?” Thom asked, cocking an eyebrow in amusement.

 

“The Glorious Revolution actually. Now that was an interesting time.” Keegan smiled in remembrance before shaking his head. “But that’s neither here nor there at the moment. Shall we leave before I change my mind and ravage you on the spot?”

 

Thom hesitated, apparently giving Keegan’s question serious thought. Then, with a laugh, he dropped a quick kiss on his lover’s lips and headed out of their bedroom.

 

* * * * *

 

Pressing his mouth to Thom’s ear so that he’d hear him, Keegan said, “I don’t remember it being so loud.”

 

Thom thumbed towards the band a few feet away before taking Keegan’s hand, leading him through the crowded room to the bar. Luck was with them, two men vacated their stools just as they got there, taking their drinks with them. Thom immediately snagged one, Keegan the other.

 

The bartender showed up moments later, grinning as he held out a hand to Keegan. “Damn, man, I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth,” he said cheerfully.

 

“Just briefly,” Keegan replied with a laugh, shaking the man’s hand. “But I’m back and not planning on going anywhere for a while. My raison d'être,” he added, slinging an arm around Thom’s shoulders, “will keep me here as long as possible.”

 

Resting the palms of his hands on the bar, the bartender leaned in to say with a chuckle, “From the look on his face he’s not going to let you leave again no matter what.”

 

Keegan turned to look at Thom for a moment, nodding before replying, “As it should be, my man. Now, how about you serve us up a couple of drinks, a Guinness for me and,” he cocked an eyebrow at Thom.

 

“Half and half, please.” Thom leaned back against Keegan, studying his profile intently.

 

“What?” Keegan asked softly.

 

“Nothing. Just—“ He shrugged.

 

“Mo ghrá, I am here,” Keegan murmured, “for the year at least, and if possible, for more.”

 

“I know.” Thom smiled ruefully. “I’m just being a wuss as usual.”

 

“But my wuss and I’m not complaining in the least.”  

 

Thom chuckled. “The wuss and the tough guy, it sounds like the title of a bad song.”

 

“A love song.” Keegan grinned, rubbing his knuckles along Thom’s jaw. “Our love song.” He picked up his drink which the bartender had just set down in front of him, waiting for Thom to do the same. Then he tapped the edge of his glass with Thom’s. “To us, now and forever, no matter what comes.”

 

With a smile, Thom agreed. “To us, always.”

(3) Caomhnóir

 

“I sense that you have not dropped this human entanglement of yours,” Alasdair stated, his visage stern with disapproval.

 

“Nor will I, mo ceannasaí,” Keegan responded. There was no defiance in his voice, just certainty that even his commander could not argue with, although he had tried several times before.

 

“As I have told you, as long as he does not endanger you I will allow it to continue.” Alasdair tapped one nail on his desk. In his present form, the gryphon could pass for a very large, muscular human male. Only small things would give him away to those in the know. The nails at the end of his fingers and toes were longer and thicker than those of a normal human, there was a definite beak-like quality to his nose, his ears were slightly pointed, and his hair was comparable to a lion’s mane, thick, luxurious and tawny gold in color.

 

Keegan on the other hand looked just as he had when he died, completely human although he was now far from that. He was a Caomhnóir, under the command of Alasdair.  Caomhnóir, or Guardians, were males, and very rarely females, who died while in the midst of committing one of the seven deadly sins. To redeem themselves, if they wished to, they are given a chance to help protect mankind. Their commanders were always mythological creatures, stewards with the ability to shift into human-like forms so that they could move among mankind, supervising the Caomhnóir.

 

Keegan’s sin had been the shedding of innocent blood. As a young man he had lived on the streets of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe (Galway), surviving by thievery and hiring himself out as a bullyboy for whichever pub owner was willing to pay him.

 

It was during one of his forays into the wealthier part of the city that he had run into a man and his daughter, well-dressed citizens, the father with a full purse hanging from his belt. Being weakened by hunger as it had been a lean week, Keegan had been clumsy in his attempt to separate the man from his coin, and thus he had found one wrist gripped firmly in the man’s hand. Slashing wildly with his blade, he had stabbed the man, who had instantly released him. When the daughter screamed for help he had acted on instinct, covering her mouth while wrapping his arm tightly around her throat. He might have made his escape if the guards had been less swift to respond to her cry of fear. Their shouts as they approached had only intensified his grip on the girl’s throat as he threatened to kill her. When one of the guards slashed his sword across Keegan’s neck, his death throes had snapped the girl’s throat and she died at the same instant.

 

Where she had gone when she died, he of course never knew. He, however, had found himself in the vale of dead sinners. It was there that he was offered a choice. He could spend eternity suffering for his sin or become a Caomhnóir.  As he had told Thom soon after they had met, he was no fool. Dead was dead and he might as well make the best of it.

 

He had chosen to become a Caomhnóir.

 

And so, for the last nine centuries he had traveled back and forth through time, dealing out death to those who merited it in the eyes of his commander, Alasdair; and in the eyes of the one who was the Rialóir Deiridh (final ruler) of all Caomhnóir.

 

(2) Caomhnóir

 

Thom sighed deeply as he watched Keegan dress. “Do you have to leave?”

 

“Only for a few hours, mo ghrá.” As he finished lacing his tight leather pants, Keegan strolled back to the bed, bending to whisper words that had Thom’s cock hardening instantly.

 

“You’re a true bastard,” Thom groaned. “At least stay long enough to take care of the problem you’ve just created.”

 

Keegan laughed wholeheartedly as he turned away and went to the closet, replying over his shoulder, “When I return I shall, if it’s still a ‘problem’. But for now, I must leave.”

 

“Business, I take it.” Thom did his best to use that thought to tame his raging libido. What Keegan did, and why, was more than enough to scare anyone, mortal or otherwise.

 

“Not business per se,” Keegan told him as he chose a dark blue shirt, looking at it critically for a moment before donning it. “I just have to check in to let them know I made it back and to file my report.”

 

“I don’t suppose—“

 

“No, Thom, you may not come with me.”

 

“I wasn’t going to ask that, I know better. Besides there’s absolutely no way I want to come within a hundred miles of your superior. He’s—“ Thom shuddered.

 

“He’s only non-human,” Keegan said, chuckling. “He doesn’t bite.”

 

“With those claws he calls fingernails, he doesn’t have to. He could rend me limb from limb. But that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

 

As he checked his hair and then slipped his wafer-thin wallet into his back pocket, Keegan looked inquiringly at Thom. “What, then?”

 

“If we could maybe hit up the club tonight? I know it’s your first full day back but—“

 

“You want the world to know I really didn’t run off and desert you.” Keegan sat down on the bed, stroking Thom’s cheek. “I understand. I want everyone to know that too. So, yes, we can hit up the club, but just for a short time.”

 

“Perfect. Now, go do your thing, and gods, please don’t let them have a new assignment for you for at least a week.”

 

“I’d opt for a month, mo ghrá. It will take me at least that long to sate my hunger for you.”

 

“Only a month?” Thom grinned, leaning in to kiss his lover. “I was hoping two, three, twelve—“

 

“You, Thom, are insatiable.” Keegan returned the kiss, breaking it before his body responded to the extent that walking in his tight leathers would be painful. “I shall return by early evening at the latest, I promise.”