Vampire Bonds (Darkbloods Book 1)

by Delia E Castel

  I don’t answer. Not because I distrust Alaric, and not because telling him that they’re called sisters of servitude would put them in danger. A lifetime of being part of a secret society has caused me never to discuss the Order with outsiders. Anybody working in Agia square already knew about the supernatural world, such as Mr. Farrier from the weaponry, but this insider information won’t leave my mouth.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask.

  He places his hand over his heart, where the seer burned the conciliar bond. “I’m anchoring your humanity. This probably means our lives are linked, and I want to make sure you can hold your own against a competent vampire.”

  My gaze drops on the weapons. “By teaching me swordsmanship.”

  “You won’t learn decapitation until you’ve passed the speed drills.” Alaric disappears with a crack.

  I glance around the cliff but can’t find him among the fireflies. I raise my head to the sky, and there’s no dark figure hovering above me. I cast my gaze to the woods over a hundred feet away to find Alaric standing between two pine saplings.

  My eyes bulge, and I place a hand over my mouth. Right now, I should be terrified. My fingers tremble, but not because Alaric’s going to hurt me. The Order never told us about vampires like him. Vampires with the speed to tear through a hundred slayers. If I encountered a vampire as strong as Alaric—

  He appears at my side, making me jump. “Focus,” he snarls at my ear. He reappears fifty feet away. “Pay attention.”

  This back and forth continues, and my eyes can’t keep up with his movements. My heart pounds harder than the crack of displaced air each time he moves. Then realization hits me upside the head. I can’t see him, but I can hear him.

  I close my eyes and focus. Each time he comes near, my adrenaline spikes, and the hairs on my arms rise. The draft blows against my skin, and a whisper skims my eardrums. I fill my lungs with air the way Sister Anatha teaches in Meditation and exhale, letting my spirit expand beyond the confines of my physical body. I imagine myself as a cloud of vapor ready to catch Alaric whizzing through my consciousness.

  The Augustine slayers didn’t accept Theodora’s Blessing just for themselves. They passed their acquired strength down the generations, with each descendent increasing in speed and strength and skill. I just need to access that power.

  Alaric whizzes back and forth for several minutes. Each time I swipe at him, my hands pass through empty air. Sometimes he stops at my side, sometimes he doesn’t. On a few occasions, he pauses at what feels like twenty feet outside my perimeter. I feel him. I hear him. But most importantly, I sense him.

  I bow my head and squeeze my eyes shut. Right now, he’s stalking on my far left. His footsteps are so light that they meld with the flutter of the fireflies’ tiny wings, but it’s him.

  If I can strike the moment my senses react to his approach—

  My fist snaps up and lands on warm flesh. When I open my eyes and meet Alaric’s shocked gaze, a laugh bubbles from deep inside my heart. “I did it.”

  He rubs his throat. “You were supposed to grab my arm.”

  “Sorry,” I say with a smile. “Next time, I’ll aim lower.”

  Alaric narrows his eyes and steps back. “You’re dangerous.”

  We try the exercise several more times before I’m catching him more times than he escapes. When Alaric feints and still manages to get caught, he stares down at me with marvel in his eyes. “I’m amazed at how quickly you’re adapting.”

  “Thank you,” I meet his gaze, my heart filled with warm gratitude.

  What on earth was Presbytera Driver thinking when she sent us out to capture Nicodemus the eighteenth-century master vampire? It had taken a group of us to secure Fortescue, who was about a century old, but he nearly suffocated Poppy trying to escape.

  Alaric brushes a lock of hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear. His movements are slow, deliberate, and send tingles across my skin. He stares into my eyes with a look that I want to say is hunger, but we’ve already established that he doesn’t want to drink my blood. Anticipation thrums through my nerve endings, and I wonder what we’re going to practice next.

  He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me even closer. A palpitation reverberates through my chest, and my tongue darts out to lick my lips. Alaric’s eyes drop to my mouth and track the movement.

  “You have fed on my blood...” He sounds like he wants something in return.

  My heart flutters in time with the wingbeats of the fireflies, and my ability to form a reply flies within the swarm. I’m locked in his presence, locked in his gaze, locked in his embrace.

  “Do you know how long I have waited for you?” he murmurs.

  I shake my head.

  “An entire lifetime.”

  His life or mine? Before I can ask what that means, his lips descend on mine in the gentlest of kisses. He draws back, but I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him in place. Alaric cradles the back of my head and kisses me again.

  Alaric’s lips are firm, insistent, and send sparks of pleasure across my skin. I exhale a heated breath through my nostrils as his arms circle my waist, bringing us closer. He swipes his tongue across the seam of my mouth, and I part my lips to let him in.

  As the kiss deepens, my knees buckle, but his strong arms hold me in place. When I think I’m going to pass out, he draws back, leaving my head spinning, and my lungs bereft of air. I’m grateful his hand is on my back because right now, I’d probably faint.

  Kissing Alaric is a thousand times more intense than the kisses I shared with Jude. The touch of Alaric’s lips sets my entire body aflame, and the caress of his tongue against mine melts me like molten chocolate. I’ve never felt this way with anyone—ever, and the heat of his passion evaporates all thoughts of him being a vampire into the ether.

  I kiss back with equal passion. Maybe at a deeper level, my body knew that what Jude and I had was never real.

  He draws back and cradles my face as though he finds me exquisite. I’ve never seen Alaric look so humble. My chest tightens, and tears sting my eyes. It’s stupid because I can’t change the past, but I wish this had been my first kiss.

  “Gabrielle?” He swipes the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. “Are you alright?”

  I swallow back the lump in my throat and inhale a fortifying breath. “It was perf—”

  Alaric spins around with a snarl. I jump back and ball my fists. What the hell? I raise my head and look in the direction of his anger. A dark, human-shaped figure flies in from the forest on thin bat wings that stretch down to its legs.

  A scream catches in the back of my throat.

  It’s the monster.

  Alaric launches himself into the air, bringing up swirls of dust. I rush to the boulder of weapons, pick up the crossbow, and turn to the sky. Alaric delivers a cycling kick with such force that they both cartwheel in opposite directions.

  The monster’s ear-piercing roar makes my stomach plummet as it spins toward the forest. Alaric rights himself and charges after it through the sky, but it flips around and dives toward me.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” I aim the crossbow toward the dark figure and shoot.

  The bolt lodges in its left eye. Its mouth opens and releases a shrill cry that shakes me to the marrow. Its incisors glisten in the moonlight, and I can almost see the venom coating every one of those sharp points.

  My heart pumps hard and fast. Blood roars in my ears. I won’t let that thing bite me—ever again. Side-stepping out of its trajectory, I shoot bolt after bolt into the creature’s body, but it doesn’t dodge, doesn’t waver.

  With an angry bellow, Alaric grabs the monster by the back of the head and drives it vertically toward the rocky ground. I skitter backward, crashing into the boulder, and swap the crossbow for a sword.

  Alaric and the monster plummet faster than gravity, and I ready the sword. Before they land, Alaric releases the monster’s head and hovers above the ground. The monster hits the
rock floor with a stomach-churning crack.

  It lies face-down and unmoving, but my experience with that thing tells me it’s probably only stunned. I clench the sword and step toward the creature.

  Alaric disappears and reappears holding a sword in a double-handed grip and plunges it through its back. The creature jerks as the blade sinks down to the hilt.

  “Is it dead?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Still breathing.”

  My heartbeat slows. I edge toward the creature, holding the sword poised to strike in case it escapes the confines of the sword.

  Even though this thing is alive and ether-positive, I can’t think of it as a person right now. The Order hunted werewolves to extinction because of the chaos they wrought. Mindless creatures driven by the urge to sink their venom in as many unwilling victims had to be culled. Not everyone the werewolves infected survived their first transformations, and many of those who did ripped their families and neighbors apart.

  This monster is no different, and if it infected another slayer, the Order would euthanize her and all the others it bit.

  Alaric stands over the twitching creature, holding out his palm in a sign for me to stop. “It’s moving.”

  The monster presses both hands on the ground in an attempt to push himself up, but Alaric places his foot back onto the sword’s hilt.

  I clench my teeth and advance toward them with my sword. “Stand aside. I’m going to slay it.”

  He shakes his head. “Let me. The closer you approach, the stronger it fights to become free. ”

  “Fine.” I hurl the sword through the air.

  Alaric catches it by the hilt and offers me a grin. “Does your fancy slayer school teach you to throw sharp objects at people?”

  “Only at vampires.” As I back toward the table, the monster calms. Alaric was right, but that doesn’t stop me from picking up another sword.

  With a move reminiscent of a golf swing, Alaric slices off the monster’s head. It flies through the air and rolls several feet away. I flinch with my arms raised against the spray of blood, but the monster’s head screams as it rolls toward the edge of the cliff. Blood oozes from its headless body, which spasms within the confines of the sword.

  I shake my head. “It’s unkillable.”

  Alaric kicks the head over the edge of the cliff, which screeches until it hits the water. “I’ll take you back to the convent.”

  “Shouldn’t we…” I gesture at the monster body.

  “I’ll return later.” He strides toward me and picks up another sword. “If the body is still alive later, I’ll move it to another location and secure it to the ground.”

  I place the sword back on the boulder and wrap my arms around Alaric’s neck.

  He flies back twice as fast as the leisurely rate he used to bring me to the training ground. I guess he’s anxious to make sure the monster doesn’t follow. Neither of us speaks as we fly over the landscape, and I cling onto Alaric’s strong body, too lost in my own thoughts.

  The first attack was random, or so I’d thought. But this second attack? Some creatures in nature can scent their prey for miles, but why me, when slayers patrol the entire country? Questions like this jumble through my mind, as do theories too outlandish to consider.

  By the time the convent’s wards tingle over my skin and Alaric deposits me onto the balcony of my room, I’m back in the present and staring into his eyes. “Thanks for tonight.”

  The corner of his mouth rises. “Next time, we’ll train in peace.”

  I grab his hand. “Be careful. It ripped a vampire’s head off its shoulders and reduced it to ash.”

  “Thank you.” He turns our joined hands around, places a kiss on my knuckles, and launches himself into the sky.

  “Bree,” Poppy’s agitated voice fills my ear.

  I turn to find her standing in the balcony doorway with a hand clutching its frame. “Presbytera Driver came here an hour ago looking for you,” she says through panicked breaths. “Evangeline has been attacked.”

  Chapter 19

  It takes several seconds for Poppy’s words to sink in, and my limbs go numb with shock. Not even the clock tower chiming two breaks me out of my stupor. My brain whirrs, my mouth opens and closes, and it takes even longer to process what’s happened. I can’t tell if this means that the monster originated from the convent, invaded the convent to attack Evangeline, or if someone else wanted to hurt her.

  Flashing her eyes, Poppy crosses the room and places a hand on my shoulder. “Someone’s coming. How will you explain going missing?”

  A heavy fist knocks on the door, and panic explodes across my chest. I scramble back toward the balcony with my best friend on my heels. Outside, dark clouds obscure the moon, but maybe that’s a good thing. If I can’t see where I’m going, nobody can see what I’m about to do.

  I climb over the balcony’s ledge and slide down the iron spindles, hoping someone might believe a slayer would climb such a high tower to avoid getting caught after curfew. My legs swing through the air, and I force myself not to look down at the long drop.

  Poppy shakes her head, her features slack with disbelief. “What do you think you’re—”

  The door slams open. A breath whistles through my teeth and I hold tight.

  “Apprentice Sydenham.” The Magus’ usually sharp voice sounds hoarse. “The wards said that Augustine just arrived. Where is she?”

  With a squeak, Poppy turns around to face the billowing net curtain. Whatever she sees in our room makes her step back and cling to the lapels of her fluffy dressing gown. I can’t let her attract the Magus’ ire, so I shout, “What’s going on?”

  The Magus steps onto the balcony flanked by two furious-looking sisters of servitude. I get why the sisters are fully dressed. They’re security staff on a night shift. It’s two o’clock in the morning or even later, but the Magus wears a tailored pantsuit and carries a three-foot-long battle staff with a wickedly sharp point.

  She glances from side to side, presumably looking for me, and then her gaze drops down to Poppy’s feet, where I’m hanging on the other side of the balcony hugging the metal spindles.

  She moves Poppy aside and fixes me with a stern glower. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Curfew violation,” I say in a small voice. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

  “Where were you between eleven and midnight this evening?” she asks.

  My brows rise. “Out on a date.”

  She flicks a finger, making my legs float up from where they’re dangling. I’m not sure if she’s trying to save me, or if this is some kind of threat. “Two people passed through the wards without authorization. Who was your accomplice?”

  Poppy turns to the sisters and the Magus. “Somebody help her up.”

  The two women step forward, but I shake my head and climb up the railings as slowly as I can to buy myself a bit of thinking time. Grandma has already heard the sexy warlock excuse, and I might as well repeat it to the Magus.

  As I straighten and fake a hurt shoulder from the effort of climbing the tower, she steps into my personal space. The scent of tuberose fills my nostrils. It’s a plant with waxy, white flowers that grow at the bottom of the garden. Grandma loves putting them in the house when she’s ever around, but Uncle Fred and I find it overpowering.

  “Well,” snaps the Magus. “Who helped you leave the convent?”

  My throat dries, and I lick my lip. “He isn’t one of the mages who studies here.” Even though my back presses into the balcony’s railing, I force myself to maintain eye contact. “I met him in the Black Bean.”

  Her face twists with a mix of fury and disgust. “You brought an unauthorized visitor through the wards?”

  I shake my head, trying not to telegraph my relief. The magic protecting the convent didn’t recognize him as a vampire, otherwise we’d be having a different conversation. “He brought himself. I just stepped onto the balcony—”

  “And you decided to break cu
rfew with a warlock?” She presses her thin lips into an even thinner line.

  “Rick only came to say goodnight.” I dip my head and pull my lips into what I hope is a shy smile. “I’ll tell him not to do it again.”

  Her nostrils flare, and she says through clenched teeth, “For the remainder of the week, you will not leave the island unless with explicit permission from Presbytera Driver or myself. You will retreat to your room after dinner and not leave until breakfast.” She fixes her hard gaze on mine. “Is that understood?”

  A knot of worry forms in my stomach. How am I going to unlock my power if I can’t see Alaric? I exhale a long breath, but it does nothing to suppress my frustration. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “You have two days to present this warlock to convent security,” she adds. “He will be held accountable for breaching the wards.”

  I clench my teeth, wanting to tell her that nobody noticed him the last time he snuck into the convent, but that would only lead to more questions and more trouble. There’s also no point in asking what happened to Evangeline. She knows the times I snuck in and out of the wards, and the last thing I want is to arouse her suspicion.

  “Ma’am?” I ask. “How am I supposed to find him if I don’t have his phone number?”

  Her eyes narrow. “Do not think for a moment that the Order won’t withdraw your candidacy for Theodora’s Blessing.”

  My gaze drops to the floor but not for the reasons everyone is thinking. I don’t want the blessing, and I also don’t want to explain why. Tonight with Alaric had been wonderful, up to the part where the monster flew in to interrupt our kiss. He’s unlocked a power within me —my reflexes are faster, and I’m sure if I fought Evangeline again without interference, I would win.

  The Magus parts the balcony door curtains and leaves with her entourage. Poppy whirls on me, but I place a finger on my lips.

  She nods.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  For the benefit of whoever might be eavesdropping, she repeats that Evangeline was attacked. “I heard she has scratches down the side of her face, but no one’s saying what happened.”