by Iris Abbott
“Go on,” she encouraged. “What happened next?”
“The god wanted at least ten blood sacrifices made in his honor. One for each month of pregnancy and then one after the child was born. The old man agreed. He made his first sacrifice the next day and another one exactly one month later. His wife began to show signs of pregnancy and the old man continued with the sacrifices.”
“Obviously something went wrong,” Zoe guessed. She shivered from head to toe.
Drew nodded in agreement. “The old man died with two months of pregnancy and three promised sacrifices left. The wife, who had never wanted her husband to bargain with the evil god in the first place, refused to continue the sacrifices despite dire warnings issued by the husband from his deathbed.”
****
Zoe sucked in a deep breath of air as a dark cloud of foreboding swept through her. It was enough to chill her to the very bone. It fascinated her too.
“Two months later, the widow gave birth to three small and sickly male children. The god, who often took the shape of a winged canine, visited her bedside and told her that she had given birth to three males that would always remind her of her folly in refusing to complete the sacrifices. Since he was denied blood, she gave birth to a child that would need to take the blood of others to survive, or he’d die a slow and painful death as disease ravaged his body. The other two males were made in the evil God's likeness. One could shift into a wolf at will, while the other could take the shape of the fiercest bird in that region, a falcon.” He paused, giving Zoe time to process the meaning of his words.
Her startled gasp filled the bedroom. “Wolf shifters and vampires have a common ancestor?”
“Yes.”
She turned and looked at Drew in time to catch the twisted grimace that crossed his face. Zoe caressed his cheek with a soft and loving hand, silently encouraging him to keep going. Drew leaned into her touch and continued. “The midwife noticed the strange fur and feathers of the second and third born children. Fearing that a dark evil was at work and that the children would be a curse to every human in the vicinity, she left them outside hoping the elements would dispose of them.”
“That’s coldhearted,” Zoe said with a shudder.
He shrugged. “Legend has it that a goddess felt sorry for the two banished babies and enlisted a family of wolves and falcons respectively to care for them. The wolf shifter thrived with the free roaming pack of wolves. Eventually, he grew into a man and felt the need to strike out on his own to find a human mate.”
“Did the other baby survive?”
“You mean the raptor shifter?”
“Yeah, I already know about vampires, but not the other.”
Drew cupped her face and tilted it until their eyes met. “Baby, you know nothing about real vampires, just rogues that let bloodlust, greed, or both get the best of them. Vampires are not inherently evil, just like shifters, guardians, and witches aren’t either. And yes, he survived. Jenna Aquila’s husband, the detective, is an eagle shifter.”
“Wow.” She was silent for several seconds. “I’m willing to believe that not all paranormal beings are evil. You’re definitely not evil.” She brushed her lips across his.
Thankful for the connection, Drew returned the favor by kissing the love bite on the side of her neck. “This mark is significant. It means you belong to me.”
“And you belong to me,” she insisted.
Drew let out a deep breath. “It’s important for another reason too. Wolf shifters have powerful cells in their blood and saliva that rapidly grow and aid in the healing of wounds and the destruction of disease. As a result, we have prolonged lives much like vampires. Biting our chosen mate transfers some of the magical cells to them.
“That’s how Raphael was able to save Tara, and why he was so insistent that only he could do it.”
“Yes.”
“Wow, that’s incredible.” She rubbed the mark on the side of her neck. So, I’ll heal faster now because of this?”
“Yes and no. Humans can’t replicate the cells themselves. A wolf shifter has to bite his mate at least once a month to inject more cells into her body. The same is true of a vampire and his mate,” he warned.
“Why’d you bite me at the Witch’s Brew?”
“I knew you were my mate. And though I didn’t dare risk telling you everything about me and wolf shifters until the time was right, I still needed to claim you and give you the added protection of my healing cells, especially if you’re going to be hunting rogues.”
“I can’t give that up, at least not until the Puppet Master has been destroyed.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask you to, but now that you know you and your sisters aren’t the only ones fighting the good fight against evil, you can finally plant some roots that will stick. Roots that include me. We haven’t known each other long, but you’re my mate, and wolves don’t make mistakes about something as serious as that.”
“Thank God! Because it would be impossible for me to walk away.”
“Then don’t! Move to Enigma, live with me, be my mate, and take that partnership with Brittany.”
“It sounds like the perfect life. The happily-ever-after I never thought I’d have,” she admitted.
“It’s all here, waiting for you. All you have to do is reach out, grab hold, and never let go.”
“Maybe I need you to show me one more time why I should stay,” she teased.
He gave her a wolfish grin. “Gladly.” He rolled, maneuvered her body under his, and happily succumbed to his hunter’s embrace.
VAMPIRE’S EMBRACE
Enigma, Maine Series
Book 12
Iris Abbott
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
VAMPIRE’S EMBRACE
Copyright © 2016 by Iris Abbott
First E-book publication: October 2016
Cover design by Iris Abbott
Photos obtained from bigstockphoto.com.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters in this book are fictitious and exist only in the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
ONE
“Don’t move from this spot,” Raphael demanded in a harsh voice that was followed by a growl of all things.
The noise startled Tara Myers, but it didn’t scare her. Oddly enough, even though she had more reason than most to fear bloodsucking monsters, the hunter wasn’t scared of the dark and dangerous vampire standing in front of her. On the contrary, she was fascinated by him. That didn’t mean she was going to take any crap from him. The battle between the zombie-like puppets who’d crashed the Halloween party and the beings resolved to stop them raged on around them. She was determined to do her part in crushing evil.
She narrowed her eyes and stiffened her spine. “I’m a vampire hunter. Fighting monsters is what I do,” she reminded the arrogant vampire. Who did he think he was anyway, trying to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? She most certainly did not answer to him.
“I can’t fight the way I need to if I’m worried about you, so stay out of the way. Two creatures are closing in on us. I’m going to lead them away from you. I’ll come back when they’ve been destroyed. Until then stay put,” he demanded in a gruff voice that sent shivers down her spine.
Before Tara could respond, Raphael yanked her against his hard body and kissed her. Her brain shut down, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her body against his. She opened her mouth to respond to the kiss, but he was gone. She blinked twice. The man, err make that vampire, disappeared right in front of her eyes.
She could hear grunts and the smack of flesh against flesh, but the sounds grew fainter and eventually disappeared. He did exactly what he said he
would do, moved the fight away from her. On the one hand, Tara was grateful because she knew she was the weakest link in this fight and she didn’t want to be the cause of someone else getting hurt or even worse killed. That didn’t mean she was going to cower in the corner and hide while everyone else did all the hard work. She wasn’t wired that way.
Tara gripped the hilt of the knife strapped to her thigh and quickly removed it from its sheath. She needed to be ready to defend herself and fight if the need arose. The pounding of her heart and jagged gasps of her breathing had to be loud enough to attract more of the hideous zombie-like creatures that until a few short minutes ago she and her sisters mistakenly thought were vampires.
She could hear scuffling noises going on all around the castle. She was still amazed that the Halloween party she and her sisters attended that night was being held in an honest to God castle. Who even knew one of those existed in Maine? Tara sure hadn’t known about it, and she was a freelance travel writer for several well-known magazines and blogs.
A loud crash came from nearby. It startled Tara so badly, she just about jumped out of her skin. She ran toward the noise. She needed to find her sisters so she could provide them with assistance. Tara knew they would not miss the action. They would be in the thick of the battle, giving it their all.
She slowly walked out of the room Raphael left her in and slipped around a corner into an open hallway and right into the path of a lurching creature. Decaying flesh drooped from its body. She gagged from the smell. She didn’t think it could actually see anything with its vacant-eyed stare. Somehow the monster zeroed in on her with its lifeless eyes.
Tara planted her feet, squared her body, and raised the knife. She thought she was ready for the impact when the creature rushed her, but this one was stronger and more determined than any others she fought before. Tara went down hard, and the breath was knocked out of her. The knife slipped out of her hand and flew across the room.
She rolled out of the way of the lumbering monster created by some ancient and powerful vampire for the sole purpose of doing his dirty work. She scrambled toward the knife, but her whole body hurt. It felt like she was moving in slow motion. Tara stretched, trying to reach the weapon. She almost had it, but the creature kicked her in her already sore ribs and beat her to the blade.
She let out a bloodcurdling scream in reaction to the pain spreading through her body and the frustration at being bested by the evil creature hell-bent on destroying her. The bright flash of the blade of her knife descending toward her was the last thing Tara saw before she blacked out.
****
The terrified scream echoed off the walls of the castle. It chilled Raphael’s blood. He felt the coldness all the way to his bones. He was confident the tortured sound came from Tara.
He used his paranormal speed to leave behind the zombie-like creatures he destroyed and rushed to the hunter’s side. His heart hammered away in his chest. It had nothing to do with his fast moving pace and everything to do with the beguiling Tara Myers. Something about her called to him despite the obvious conflict that existed between a vampire and a hunter.
The sight that greeted him almost sent him to his knees. Tara was unconscious, and blood, the fluid of life, pooled around her limp body. Heightened emotions swirled inside him. Pure instinct drove him to do all that he could to save her.
Her older sister, Zoe, kneeled next to Tara, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He glided around the sister and cradled Tara close to his body. He stood, holding her in his embrace. He could sense her life force slipping away. There was a slim chance he could save her, but he had to act fast.
Zoe grabbed his arm. “Wait what are you doing? Don’t move her! She needs medical attention!”
“It’s too late for that,” Raphael snapped back. He knew the sister was acting out of concern and love, but she was wasting precious time Tara did not have. “She needs my blood to survive,” he insisted.
He tried to walk away from Zoe, but she must have been as desperate as him to save Tara, she tightened her grip on him, slowing him down. “No! She needs an ambulance, and she needs her sisters!”
Her legs buckled, and she fell to the ground. A pitiful sob broke loose and echoed off the walls and ceiling of the castle. The depth of her pain battered his senses, but he didn’t have time to spare her feelings, not if he was going to save Tara. Zoe tried to hold on to him, but he brushed her aside and turned on the speed.
He ran so fast the woman he left behind would think he’d simply disappeared. He didn’t stop moving until he was in a deserted back corner of the castle where he could do what had to be done without being interrupted. He felt her heart stutter and knew she was almost out of time. He had to act now! He didn’t spare a second for the consequences.
His fingernail lengthened into a sharpened claw. He slid it across his wrist, opening the vein. He forced her mouth open and let his blood flow freely from him to Tara. His blood would begin to mend her from the inside out, replenishing her organs with fluid, and knitting tissues back together.
Raphael knew it wasn’t enough. He carefully removed the blood-soaked material covering the jagged wound on her neck. It was most likely placed there by the sister, and probably staunched the flow of blood just enough to give Tara a fighting chance, with his help. He licked the edges of the jagged wound, hoping the healing agents in his saliva would be able to repair some of the extensive damage done by the puppet.
After thirty minutes, the bleeding stopped, and he could hear the echo of her heartbeat. The once stuttering organ beat at a slow but steady rhythm. Finally, she was stable enough to move, and that was a good thing. Raphael was anxious to be away from the unfamiliar castle and in his own territory. He carefully lifted her into his arms, navigated the back hallways of Alessandro Russo’s home, and exited to the outside via a rear passageway.
He skirted the grounds, staying to the shadows, and went straight to his SUV. He used his strong telekinetic powers to unlock and open the back door. He cautiously slid her inside and gently placed her on the back seat. As careful as he was being, she let out a pain filled moan. The noise affected him much like a dagger to the heart.
It was uncomfortable but not unexpected. Raphael knew that sharing his blood with Tara would create a bond that would be almost impossible for either one of them to break. Her pain was his pain. He felt it all the way to his soul. Raphael knew he had a rough few hours ahead of him.
TWO
Tara forced her heavy eyelids open. They felt like they’d been glued together. She automatically lifted a hand and wiped away the gritty sleep collected in the corners of her eyes. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she carefully surveyed her surroundings.
The luxurious room with ivory walls trimmed in chocolate brown was elaborately decorated. It was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen, but unfortunately, nothing about it was familiar. She pushed herself up and rested against the ornate bronze headboard of a Victorian king canopy bed. Filmy curtains in the palest of blues surrounded the bed, insulating her from the rest of the world and making her feel safe.
Tara swallowed, but her mouth was so dry it hurt. She had no idea where she was or why she was by herself. Her sisters would never leave her in a strange place alone unless something was dreadfully wrong.
She forced down the rising panic and tried to concentrate. Tara’s memory was foggy, and her brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. She attempted to get out of bed, but it was too much of an effort to push away the satin sheet that covered her. Every inch of her body was sore as if she’d been in the fight of her life. That was enough to open the floodgates and let her last conscious memories rush back to her.
Raphael, the infuriatingly sexy vampire who made Tara shiver in both fear and excitement, battled one of the zombie-like creatures plaguing the country. Raphael with his paranormal abilities was both stronger and faster than Tara. He outmaneuvered her in combat, blocking her every attempt in a misguided effort to ke
ep her safe. So she did what any vampire hunter would do. She bowed out of the fight and left to find her own battle.
She’d found it a couple of minutes later. Things evidently hadn’t ended well. While fighting with the creature, she’d slipped in the ridiculous high-heeled shoes of her costume and went down, giving the zombie the upper hand. The glint of a metal blade descending toward her and excruciating pain were the last things she remembered.
She wasn’t dead, so someone must have saved her. The question was who? Tara had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer. If her sisters were the ones to rescue her, she’d be in a hospital or their hotel suite instead of some Victorian themed bedroom.
The panic came back with a vengeance, and Tara threw her legs over the side of the bed and surged to her feet. She swayed, lost her balance, and gave into the dizziness swamping her. She collapsed into a heap on the side of the bed. A startled cry left her mouth before she could silence the noise.
The hinges on the bedroom door squeaked. So much for trying to sneak out of the place without alerting anyone. Tara knew she was about to come face-to-face with her host. She entwined her fingers and clenched them together over her stomach and tried to calm her skyrocketing pulse and rapid, shallow breath. She never suffered a panic attack before, but Tara felt as if she was on the verge of having one for the first time ever.
She wasn’t surprised when a tall, dark, and dangerous vampire walked into the room without bothering to knock. “You,” she said with as much scorn as she could muster. Her heart raced for another reason now. Her gaze flew over Raphael, lingering on his muscular body, shoulder-length midnight black hair, pale skin, and finally came to rest on his ice-blue eyes.