Was she attempting to ward him off or reach for him? Having seen enough transitions to know that she was in the final stages, he also knew that in such state, no matter how powerful, she would be in no condition to fight him. He crouched on a single knee next to her, using her extended hand to jerk her roughly to him. Supporting her torso on that bended knee, he encased her upper body in the steel bands of his arms. Lorcan’s fangs extended further, his eyes blackening with his rage. He leaned to put his face in hers, his voice deadly cold, “Tell me, you deceitful bitch, why I do not tear your throat wide and end you now?”
Her lids lowered slowly, she thought the pain must have made her daft. The blackness of his eyes, induced by his Vampiric traits when his emotions were heightened, was ringed in vivid blue. She experienced a rush of cool breath from his mouth as his fangs touched the vein of her neck in warning. She would not give him the pleasure of witnessing her fear, just as she had not with those evil vampires of the Dark that fateful night long ago. In the throes of her misery she was too beleaguered by it to spend energy imagining her death at his hands. Death would be a welcome escape from the relentless agony that had arrived so suddenly. Overwhelmed by it, she had possessed barely the strength to take leave of the last of Rhydach’s manors that she had destroyed.
In her quest for the death of a killer she had destroyed any and all of Rhydach’s possessions and people that stood in her way. She had found the other bastard responsible for her parents’ murder and had exalted in his torment and the horror of his allies before she had ended them all. The pain that had come upon her immediately afterwards was crippling; although she had called desperately for Myrrdyn, he had not come to her rescue. Her memories had pushed her here and God had answered her prayers. Lorcan was in residence this night.
Another series of knifing pains shot through her entire being and the moan of misery escaped despite her best efforts. In response she rolled her body tighter against Lorcan, as if seeking comfort in the fold of his arms, rather than away from the threat he currently presented. Buried under that pain, in the recesses of her mind, she still had a tenuous grip on the deep-rooted belief that he would protect her. Her action exposed the slim column of her neck to him only more fully.
He found it odd that she offered no defense. Was there no fight in her? To him her silence was an admission of guilt, treachery. Lorcan tucked her up higher against him as he readied her neck for his bite; he wanted her tormented and he wanted her fear. Her blood stained hands splayed across his chest, but she did not push, she did not resist. Damn it, he wanted her to fight and he wanted to relish in the victory of her death. Lorcan grazed his lips over her ear and paused there to whisper as she shivered, “I will have you begging for my mercy.”
His mouth slipped downward and his fangs found the top of her throat, under the jaw line. He pressed only hard enough to drag sharp tips roughly down the entire length, leaving two thin trails of blood glistening against her pale skin. This evil would cower to him. By all that was Ancient, the creature would be begging for the end when he decided to deliver it.
Her only protest to the injury was the claw-like grip of her nails against his upper arm. Lorcan used the mass of curls to jerk her head back, her face completely visible now as he crushed her body tighter to his. What a shame that such a beauty need be destroyed; his mind unwillingly registered the soft curves of her where they fit against him. His fingertip touched at her upper lip and lifted, examining the pearly white and beautifully formed fang beneath. Her breathing had become low and shallow; it appeared the transition was complete. That served him well. She would remain weak in her new state for quite some time and, with that pain leaving, the hurt he would return to her would bring about the fear and surrender that he needed to witness.
Her lids drifted up as he completed his inspection and her eyes found his. Those haunting eyes served only to stoke his upset. He yanked on her hair again, twisting so as to present her neck in offering. The smile he gave her was bitter and did not soften the ferocity of his inky glare, “Little evil one, I shall now teach you to fear me. The pain of your transition will seem a pleasant memory by the time I am finished.”
Kaitriana gazed at him calmly before lowering her lashes. Exhausted, she refused to engage. He lowered his mouth once more, his fangs tearing deep at the skin of her throat but still not biting. Lorcan made two more gashes down the entire length and he knew it must sting wickedly. He felt her shudder, saw her right hand clench and took pleasure in the fact that he was correct. Her blood was warm, its essence heady; he would enjoy draining it but for now he intended to toy with her until his rage was tempered from hearing her cries.
He flicked at the broken skin with his tongue, helping her immortal flesh heal more quickly as he lingered over her taste. Lorcan watched the wounds close, wondering who in the Dark was responsible for creating such a beauty. Surely they must know that she would be coming to her death by seeking him. He would require those answers too before he let her convince him to end her. He knew full well he would have no problem in devising the methods to drag the responses from the girl.
As he waited for the damage on her neck to heal completely, Lorcan rubbed a finger lightly over her parted lips. The touch was almost gentle and the soft stroking caused her to relax without thinking. Her lips parted more fully for him. At her seeming invitation, he pushed her upper lip back giving closer inspection to her fangs. She was an exquisite little thing, had she been his Kaitriana he would have found her irresistible in this transitioned form. Taking his fingertip he circled the ivory point, back and forth between and again, until she was writhing in his grasp. He knew the new formations were incredibly sensitive and that the repeated touch would be so pleasurable as to be near pain.
He knew also that by this time the hunger must be overcoming her, “Ah, Beauty, unfulfilled thirst in the newly born is a torture in and of itself.” Lorcan sliced the tip of his finger wide on her fang and watched the points extend further in response to his blood. He rubbed the bleeding tip round and round each fang, taking vicious delight in her little throaty growl of need. Finally Lorcan traced it once more slowly on each point before spreading it languidly across her lower lip. Knowing it would set her off towards madness, he whispered to her, “I shall love watching you burn with it.”
Her eyes clashed with his at the last taunt, the blue being swamped by inky darkness as she sucked ravenously at the red stain on her lower lip. She was unsuccessful at conquering the sudden voracious need that had swept her with the first red drops he had spilled over her fangs. Kaitriana imagined she could easily be brought to beg for more of his taste. She knew by the cold sneer he gave her that she had been unsuccessful too at hiding her dread over the recently realized hunger and the additional weapon it gave him against her.
Lorcan wondered when he watched her eyes begin shift to black if it was due to her fear or her hunger. Either suited him just as well. The gashes on her neck were gone; he abruptly jerked her neck back to him to tear open the column of skin, setting his teeth more deeply into her flesh. His actions this time were rewarded with her whimper and Lorcan smiled against her skin as he completed the course downward. Releasing his hold on her neck, he raised his hand and probed the seam of her lips again with his still bleeding fingertip. He was watching intently, gauging her response, and met her gaze coolly when it shot upwards to his with alarm.
The intensity of the hunger was removing her ability to think and Kaitriana could not stop herself from drawing the tip between her lips and licking fervently. Lorcan watched the extreme pleasure play across her features and let her lap away greedily for minutes before he pulled his hand mercilessly away. He reveled in it when he heard her whisper ‘please.’ A cruel smile finally broke his expression as he whispered, “Please? What do you want from me, Beauty?”
Lorcan trailed the bloodied fingertip down the length of her arm. The scent of it so close drove her to twist restlessly against him. Capturing her wrist in the circle of
his fingers, he lifted her limp arm upwards and examined the fine bones of her hand. Continuing his study, he whispered callously, “Beg me for more, little vampire. Beg me…”
He closed his mouth on her wrist at that moment, sinking his fangs in slowly. When buried deep, he twisted his mouth to rip the flesh open painfully. She flinched but did not cry out. The sweet taste of her washed over his tongue and the unwanted pleasure he derived from drinking her in only caused his burning wrath to fester.Withdrawing his fangs, he glanced down at her derisively and whispered the order again.
At her sustained silence, he repeated the torturous bite of her wrist. To Lorcan’s surprise, although her body stiffened she still did not beg for release from her hunger or his persecution. He increased the pressure of his bite and growled his frustration over her resistance.
She could not hold the whimper that formed this time at the pain wrought by his mouth, but took advantage of the fact that his tight grip on her body had eased. Kaitriana rolled herself tighter into the cradle of his chest. She finally had her wits enough that she understood she would need to make her case with him before he destroyed her. Tucking her head against his shoulder, her free arm slid around his waist to his back, clinging to him rather than pushing free. Had her actions not already given him pause, her words did. Though weak, they reached his ears easily, “Myrrdyn… sent me…to you…”
Kaitriana wanted to sleep for another five hundred years for this night had been not worth awakening. She felt she might never return from this exhaustion, much less the torture at the hands of her supposed protector. However, she felt magic sparking within her and she needed his help to gain control of herself before she lost control of the power. It was important, urgent even.
Myrrdyn…one did not invoke the name of the Sorcerer of Light in jest or deceit if one valued living. Would Myrrdyn have sent him this newly born vampire female? To what purpose? The men in his guard had been long forgotten, but remembered now as Lorcan heard them stirring behind him at the mention of the old witch’s name. He released his grip on her arm, demanding simply, “Why?”
Threading his fingers through her hair he pulled her head back, easier this time. As he gazed down at her Lorcan wondered if she would give him trickery in her answer. Her eyes were edged with pain and fatigue. Weakly, the fingertips of her left hand began kneading the front of his armor and she attempted to tuck her head under his chin despite his hold on her. She issued the response wearily, “To…protect.”
There was a scoff of disbelief behind them, her words had been overheard. Trickery indeed, the mighty Sorcerer knew better than to send protection for the Warrior of Light. Anger rekindled in his eyes. Kaitriana felt it in the tightening of his grip around her; she was at her limit and could take no more. Instinct drove her and she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Upon hearing his indrawn breath, she pleaded as he had demanded earlier, but for different purpose, “Please Lorcan, I cannot continue with this….Please… you…are to protect…me…”
Lorcan stroked her cheek lightly to encourage her, eager to hear what falsehood her lying tongue would deliver to him next. He realized with extreme disappointment that she had been much easier to break than he had anticipated. She was already weaving tales to save herself from further torture. Unfortunately for her, he had much more that he intended to deliver. Soon he would be rewarded with her words pleading for her own death.
He pressed his lips against her skin, delivering a number of pleasurable nips first up the creamy path of her throat. Lorcan enjoyed feeling her uncontrolled shudder in response; his bite could easily deliver as much pleasure as pain. He ended the trek by driving his fangs deep and twisting, rending a deep gash in her skin just below her jaw line.
Kaitriana arched her back high off his leg as an anguished scream tore from her and tears began anew, coursing freely down her cheeks. “Please Lorcan, please, please….” she was hissing against the pain. Trying to keep her mind together so that she might choose her words more carefully, she offered quickly, “Tis no treachery here…I did not perish in the hands of the Dark at the Festival.”
Ignoring her claim, Lorcan deliberately eased the pressure of the bite, moving his mouth and tongue over her skin in a manner to evoke pleasure as he continued to take her blood. He wanted her mindless with it before he inflicted more damage. The rapid shift from the edge of pleasure to the depths of pain would cause her sanity to shatter given her vulnerable, weakened state.
He heard the shuddering intake of her breath just as her hand gripped his shoulder. Though her hand held fast, the longer he continued the gentle pressure with his mouth the more she visibly relaxed. Catching the little growl in her throat, Lorcan knew he had been successful in lulling her with his arousing play. He withdrew his mouth to study her.
Her eyes were on his, delving into the depths of the icy rage lurking there. Kaitriana ascertained his game. As Lorcan made move towards her neck yet again, she flinched from him and her body began trembling. She hurried, her tone pleading with him as much as her words, “Please…you must know me Lorcan…you must... the cottage.”
She was beginning to feel so weak and the darkness was pushing at her. A whimper rose as he began suckling and licking at her neck wound again; she was already shaking against him in anticipation of his next play. In desperation, Kaitriana redoubled her efforts, “You knew me….I waved …you knew me then.” Lorcan paused, raising his head, suspicion growing in his expression.
Kaitriana was begging him, needing him to acknowledge her. She swallowed hard, the rise of magic within her was now taxing her as much as the Vampire hunger and the pull between the two was threatening to drag her into unconsciousness. If she could not gain his protection before she succumbed to either the darkness dragging her under or the magic forcing to the surface, she could very well perish at these gates. She maintained the same pleading tone, continuing, “Lorcan…please...I need you…your protection.”
Lorcan’s eyes were probing hers and she struggled to keep her gaze locked with his as she shifted as much as his grip would allow. She could see a bit of hope warring with the bitterness and disbelief in his eyes now. Twisting ever so slight to grant her arms freer movement, she slid both sets of fingers from his chest up to his face.
The palm of each hand found home on either side. Fingertips caressing softly, Kaitriana simply whispered, “Mine.” She used her last remnant of strength to lift up and press a light kiss to his brow. The effort had cost her and she collapsed down against him. If he chose more torture or her death there was naught she could do; her lids slipped wearily shut, anticipating her defeat.
CHAPTER 10
The single word washed over him and Lorcan felt a physical pain tearing at his chest. His fingertips swept the same spot on his brow as her lips had and then he dropped them to her cheek. He clenched his teeth when she cringed. Cupping her face, he used the pad of his thumb to slowly trace around the pretty little features of the female that now lay so still in his hold.
Lorcan wrestled internally with the fact that he had just sadistically abused and contemplated the death of the one creature that he had been missing for over five hundred years. None had seen her interactions with him at Laverock the day of her rescue nor that night at her Uncle’s cottage. He had given an accounting of her antics to no one.
Lorcan knew with certainty by her last words and actions that she spoke the truth. Her breathing began to ease and he dropped his forehead to hers. His eyes closed as a previously unacknowledged acrimony began to leave him. Uncertain who exactly he should be thanking for this treasure, he merely offered a silent word of praise to whomever might be listening and nuzzled his face against her dark curls. He did whisper it aloud this time, reverently, “Kaitriana.” Relief spread visibly across her features though she remained unmoving in his arms.
Still reeling, Lorcan pulled her more tightly against him but gentled his hold. His fingertips nudged her chin upwards, “Open your eyes, little one.” When she comp
lied, his steely gaze penetrated the depths of her blue, questioning, “How?” The breathtaking witch was in fact now the stunning little vampire female in his arms. Her eyes were true and with his reasoning no longer clouded by fury, he knew them. He had been living with the memory of their sparkle for an eternity.
Kaitriana whispered, “Myrrdyn.”
Lorcan’s jaw clenched tight with the realization that the wily old witch had a hand in this. His mind raced, trying to puzzle it together. Why would the Sorcerer of Light let the Realm believe all hope had died with his grandchild, the one who could give rise to the Chosen powers and complete the prophecy? Lorcan shook his head. The repercussions of this would shake the Realm. He pressed her, “Tell me.”
She shook her head hurriedly. Her gaze never left his and her voice dropped low, “Tis not for the hundreds to hear, not at this moment…please.” Kaitriana’s gaze slipped meaningfully past him to sweep over the gathered warriors and the other of his Coven that had been brave enough to venture out to watch the drama unfolding at the gates. She pleaded with him, knowing she could not deny him her story if he insisted on it this very second, but Kaitriana needed him to get her away from this gathering. The magic had risen again; lightning shot across the sky. Did he notice?
Lorcan opened his mouth, ready to insist that as soon as he fed her newborn thirst that she provide the detail that brought her to his presence that eve, but held as Colm shadowed next to him. “Sir, there are reports coming back to the keep.” Lorcan glanced up as Colm continued, “Three of Rhydach’s holdings…they have been destroyed, leveled. Few Darks that occupied those holdings survive. There is nothing but heaps of rubble, fire and bloodied land that remain.”
Still held in his arms, Lorcan felt Kaitriana squirm as she did her best to slide her bloodied hands from sight. She was worrying her lower lip with that tiny white fang, a touch of fear again marring her brow. It stabbed his heart.
Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series Page 6