The Vampire And The Highland Empath

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The Vampire And The Highland Empath Page 8

by Clover Autrey


  …off this boat…Geschopf won’t…down long…

  He took her roughly by the shoulders. “Edeen!”

  There was shouting, the slapping of boots on metal steps. Edeen blinked up at Roque, trying to make sense of it and felt like weeping. Oh Roque, what he did to you.

  Shouts, grating noises. Roque’s face swung away. “Bleeding hell. There’s too many—“

  Edeen felt herself lifted and then they were flying through the dark sky until the cold, cold ocean reached up and swallowed them whole.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Edeen, come on. Are you with me, luv?” He pulled her through the water, moving away from the slushing paddle steamer. He didn’t know what had happened between them when Edeen grabbed ahold of Geschopf’s chest. They’d both frozen, caught in some sort of spell it seemed, and it had scared the shite out of him. He’d reacted swiftly, taking out the two vampires and snatched Edeen away.

  And he would wager Geschopf wouldn’t be down long, but searching the water for them even now.

  Roque could get them to shore. He had enough stamina and endurance for the both of them, but something was wrong with Edeen. “Come on, Treasure. Show me that you’re still with me.” He treaded water for them both. “Edeen?”

  A wave swept over them.

  Edeen’s eyes jerked open, tracked around the water for a bit, until finally focusing.

  “Oh, Roque.” It was the most heart-wrenching wonderful sound he’d ever heard. His blood roared to life again.

  “Geschopf…” Her chin trembled and there was heartbreak in her eyes. “He’s done the most horrible things.” Her voice cracked. “To you. To so many others. And, and, this Hitler—“ She broke on a sob as a wave dashed over their heads.

  He pulled her in closer. “I know, I know.”

  “Ye do not know. None of ye know what he’s done to his own people. ‘Tis horrible. I hate this world. I hate it. ‘Tis dark and ugly. Mortals have become monsters. I want to go home.”

  “I know, I know. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be all right.”

  Her sobbing slowed and she finally nodded. Pride filled his chest. Gods, he loved her.

  Roque?” her voice was quiet. Water splashed over them, lifting them in their roll. “I did not mean any of those things I said to him.”

  He smiled, though they were so close together she couldn’t see it. “I never considered that you did.” He kissed her forehead, found her skin to be cold. She was freezing, the sea water stealing her strength. “You were very cunning and brave.”

  He drew from the fire in his core, letting it flow through his skin, pulling her close so his warmth would revive her.

  Edeen pressed her head more heavily into the crook of his neck. “I would never make a deal with Geschopf.”

  Roque’s heart dropped like a stone. He pulled back to look at her. “Yes, you will. If something happens to me, if we’re separated, anything at all, Edeen, you make that deal. You do whatever you have to do to stay alive. Promise me that.”

  Her eyes were huge, shining in the moonlight. “Nay, Roque. I cannot—“

  “You can. You stay alive. You survive. And I will come for you. But you stay alive.”

  They stared at each other. Small waves lifted and dropped them. His heat reviving her, lips trembling, she nodded.

  “Just do not make it come to that.” She rested her head back onto his shoulder. Her breath was cold on his wet neck.

  “With all that I’m capable of,” he quietly vowed and felt her stiffen.

  “Gods, nay. Alex, we left Alex.”

  He’d do anything not to tell her, but she was a woman who didn’t take to being placated. “Geschopf had him tossed overboard.” He left out that the lad had been badly beaten first. “He’s strong and capable. Keep faith for him.”

  Edeen nodded against him. Whether she believed him or not remained unspoken.

  “We need to make the shore.” He pulled her around to his back, arranging her arms around his shoulders. “I need you to hang on.”

  “I can swim.”

  “I know, but it will be much faster this way. Trust me.”

  “I do,” she said quietly and nothing in his existence had ever meant as much.

  He squeezed her hands, ready to begin his swim, when he heard it.

  The heavy halting drone of bombers. His gaze wrenched up to the dark sky, the booming roar of engines close overhead. At least fifty bombers passing over them, using the bright moonlight as a guide.

  Mother of God, Roque’s heart lodged in his throat.

  German aircraft. The Luftwaffe headed directly toward Greenock. Toward the shipyards.

  The sleeping inhabitants had no warning.

  Sound the sirens, he willed the watchman, or anyone, to see what came for them.

  “What are those?” Edeen whispered.

  Roque’s tone came out strangled, barely croaking out one word, “Death.”

  The first glow of red hit Greenock like a flash of sunset, casting buildings and spired churches into dark shadowed reliefs.

  Bombs whistled down from the planes, exploding, flowering in blazes of horrible light.

  Shrill notes of the sirens went off, carrying over the water. Searchlights swept the sky and from across the river Clyde the ba-boom of anti-aircraft rumbled.

  All Roque could do was swim. Swim with everything he had to Greenock.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She was numb. The water had grown cold again and she felt like a bag of unfeeling flesh pressed against Roque’s back, though she didn’t tell him.

  He’d been swimming for hours, yet even his astonishing endurance must have limits and Edeen wouldn’t take from his reserves because she was cold. She adjusted her grip around his shoulders, flexing her water-logged wrinkled fingers.

  The sky was lightening into the gray of pre-dawn. She could make out the ships and buildings that lined the approaching shore and several pointed spires that in her time signified a keep’s tower, possibly a church. She wondered if they still meant the same.

  She recognized the long sandbar that marked the tail of an estuary that poured into the Firth, having visited the small fishing village that once occupied this shoreline a fortnight ago. Centuries ago, she corrected herself, her heart as frozen as her body. It was so quiet and still as though the events of the night were only a horrible dream. Flying beasts dropping fire and destruction from the sky.

  Like dragons, ancient serpents, the true sleepers through time.

  Edeen felt the muscles of Roque’s back move beneath her cheek, a true dragon.

  She squinted, her eyes sore and gritty from the sea, toward everything that had changed. There was too much loss. Too much to mourn. Her heart was heavy as though it too had soaked up too much water and was pulling her down to the depths of the ocean.

  “Edeen?” Roque’s hand came back around and tapped her hip. “Are you with me, lass?”

  “Aye,” she answered dutifully.

  He jostled her thigh. “Stay awake, Treasure. We’re almost ashore.”

  “Not a treasure. Mmmm.” Her eyes hurt, so she let them slide closed.

  “None of that, sweetheart. I can feel you not trying.”

  “Bloody vampire,” she used his favorite oath. His bloody rotting senses would pick out the slackened beating of her pulse.

  A chuckle filled his tone. “That’s my girl.”

  Except she wasn’t. She did not have anyone she belonged to. She had not lied to Geschopf about there being no one left in the world that belonged to her either.

  And this world was horrible and frightening, where machines filled the sky and rained fire upon slumbering innocents. Even Aldreth had not wielded a power so terrible.

  The air around her warmed and she realized she was no longer floating lifelessly in the sea bay, but carried in Roque’s arms.

  His legs splashed through water as he carried her to shore, the fire of his body warming hers.

  “I am
well.” She pushed to be let down, but her arm had little strength left. She would not take more from Roque. He was exhausted.

  He would not let her down, but stared off to his left. “Huh. The shipyards took little damage.”

  The same could not be said for the rest of what she could make out in the low light of Greenock.

  “Stay right there,” a young voice called out. “D-dinna move.”

  A young boy stood near a boulder, holding one of those long guns in shaking hands. He was caked in dirt, light hair mussed, his cheek splattered with blood. “Are ye a downed pilot, then?”

  “Son,” Roque spoke very calmly and set Edeen onto her feet, stepping out around her, which she did not mind as it was unlikely the child’s weapon carried Geschopf’s dragon-killing bullets. Her legs felt wobbly, but she remained upright.

  Roque held his palms out, placating, though with his speed, he could just as easily disarm the lad. “If I were a pilot, I’d be in uniform. Nor would I have a woman with me.”

  The boy’s face crumbled. His shoulders sagged. “There’s no bullets anyway.” He rubbed his wet nose across his dirty sleeve. “Can you…can you…I need help. The house, our house, it fell on us. My sister…” he wailed.

  Edeen and Roque looked at each other, then back to the boy. Roque nodded. “Show us where.”

  They hurried through the dark streets. Entire lines of houses, or possibly a long keep were damaged. Walls shattered, the masonry collapsed into rooms. Farther away, a spire tower was on fire. They passed a woman in her nightclothes, shouting for her husband to get up. He lay at her feet, his neck at an impossible angle, eyes open to the smoke-choked sky.

  Looking away, Edeen hurried after Roque and the boy, watching her footing through the debris and broken glass as she had no shoes.

  Roque strode ahead, shoulders thrown forward in grim determination.

  They came to another row of houses, half-fallen in. The glass from all the windows had scattered and stuck into walls and furniture.

  The boy started climbing beneath a titled piece of wall, but Roque pulled him back. “Whoa, whoa, little man.”

  “But she’s in there somewhere. We were sleeping.” Tears streaked through the dirty blood on his cheeks. “I have to find her.”

  “And we will.” Roque got on a knee to get face-to-face with the boy. “The more people go in there, the more chance of things falling on her. I know right where she is. I can feel her.” Roque smiled, purposely revealing the long pointed tips of two of his teeth.

  The child’s head canted, his brows pushing together. “You’re a…a vampire?”

  Roque nodded.

  “Not supposed to talk to them.” The boy frowned. “You can hear her heart beating? So she’s alive?”

  “She’s alive,” Roque assured. “And I can get her.”

  Thank you, mister. Thank you.” His chin quivered and he swayed like the relief took away the last reserve he’d been clinging to.

  Roque caught him by the arms. “What’s your sister’s name?”

  “Margaret.”

  “All right. Stay here and I’ll get her.” With that, Roque ducked through the broken wall.

  Edeen came to the boy, resting her arm across his bony shoulders. He surprised her by leaning in close as they listened to rubble scraping and being thrown aside, craning their necks at every glimpse of movement inside.

  “What’s your name?” Edeen asked quietly.

  The boy sniffled. “Thomas.”

  “Thomas, where’s yer parents?”

  “My dad mans the radar aerial at the gun site across the river. “My mam…” His eyes got a hollow look to them. “Her room was over there.” He pointed to a sunken pile of rubble. “It’s gone.”

  Edeen squeezed his shaking shoulder.

  Black fabric covered the windows of a house across the street, which had taken no damage at all.

  “Edeen,” Roque called out. “I need your help.”

  “Stay here,” she told Thomas. “If anyone comes by, ask them for help.” Without question, she crawled into what looked like the aftermath of a hurricane.

  Large pieces of wall and roof had collapsed inward. Pieces of glass were embedded in everything. Roque had made good progress in clearing most of the debris from around a young woman, though a large slab slanted across her legs while smaller chunks were sliding in around her.

  Roque had his back against what looked like a large boulder, but must be a piece of wall or ceiling, his legs braced, features pinched with effort. Edeen followed the boulder’s intended path and swallowed. He was the only thing keeping it from crushing the girl.

  “I shifted the wrong piece, and…” he gave a slight shrug.

  No need for further explanation. Edeen hiked the tight wet skirt up to climb carefully over slabs and broken furniture to get to the young woman. She was awake, her eyes overly bright and glassy in the dirt-caked face.

  Edeen smiled for her. “Margaret, don’t worry. We’ll have ye free in a moment.” She started scooping chunks of wall and fist-sized rocks away.

  “But that stone will cr-crush…”

  “Nay, Margaret. Not while he holds it. Roque will not let harm come to ye. He promised yer brother.”

  “Thomas? He’s okay?”

  “He’s fine. Worried for you so ye must be brave.”

  Margaret nodded and Edeen pulled more dirt and stones away, freeing the lass’s upper body. The girl’s arm moved, a good token, though the other one remained still and lifeless.

  “What of my mam?”

  Edeen stilled, but recovered her composure, testing a piece of splintered wood to see if it would make anything fall before removing it. “I do not know.”

  Tears slid down Margaret’s face and into her hair, leaving streaks along her dirty face.

  Edeen stopped digging to take her hand. “Are ye in pain?” Of course she was. She glanced back at Roque still pressed against the boulder. His limbs shook. Sweat ran along his hairline. He’d already been exhausted. It seemed hopeless, yet looking at Roque, at the force of his spirit, she knew they could do this.

  Giving up on Margaret was not a consideration.

  “My legs hurt. Really awful.”

  Edeen rubbed her wrist, feeling helpless and overwhelmed. She did not have the strength to lift the slab off of Margaret and trying to dig beneath made it sink and shift. “That’s well, Margaret. Pain is sometimes good to let ye know everything still works. ‘Tis what my brothers say.”

  “You have brothers?”

  “Aye. Three and not a pound of sense between them.” A swift ache flooded her chest. She wished they were here. Together her brothers would lift the debris and save the lass. Then Charity would heal her. Unshed tears blurred Edeen’s vision.

  Margaret’s fingers curled around hers. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  “Nay, Margaret, I will not let ye.”

  The lass smiled at that and nodded.

  “Edeen,” Roque’s voice strained with effort.

  She looked up and found several men crawling beneath the partially fallen wall.

  Not men. Gremlins. She blinked, having never seen the thin creatures even in her own time. They wore black iron helmets with bands of gold that bent their pointed ears downward and she’d never been happier to see anyone in her life.

  “Lad said you could use a hand in here.”

  Nodding like a drunkard, Edeen nearly sagged with relief.

  The lead gremlin took his helmet off and placed it on Margaret’s head. Though thin and fragile seeming, the gremlins were strong. In no time they had the boulder secured with rope and Margaret freed and her and her brother whisked away, hopefully to some kind of Healer Sorceress.

  Outside the destroyed house, Edeen sank down on, she wasn’t sure what it was, a broken chair? She was exhausted, her limbs shaky and weak.

  Roque lowered beside her, and rested his head in his hands. She felt low tremors run through him.

  The bowed legs o
f a gremlin stood before them. Roque looked up. “Thank you for coming.”

  The gremlin nodded. The pink tinge of his skin looked grayer beneath the dusting of grime.

  “Vampire, we could use your help.”

  Though weary, Roque stood. “Let’s go.” He took Edeen’s hand and drew her to her feet. “I need a safe place for her.”

  “My safe place is with you.”

  Roque stared at her as though he had something of great import to tell her, but instead he shook his head, and said, “You’re worn-out.”

  “As are you.”

  A sad smile touched his mouth and he ran his knuckles along her cheek, before nodding.

  They spent the entire day moving from house to house, Roque identifying heartbeats buried in rubble, and then the gremlins pulled survivors out.

  They worked tirelessly.

  Creatures of dark magic, Edeen thought. Vampires and gremlins, yet she could see no darkness in them. Nay, she witnessed nobility shored by compassion and heart.

  Everything she thought she knew about magic and their dark and light properties was crushed beneath the seeking hands of a few gremlins.

  They worked late into the day, taking small breaks where sandwiches and warm tea were offered from the back of a lorry to all the rescue workers.

  Edeen helped as best she could, mainly soothing victims through use of her errant gift, guiding their memories to happier times. Though her gift was sporadic, she still remained a calming influence and the gremlins quickly learned to bring her in to help immediately, while Roque sometimes went on ahead to find the next heartbeat.

  She met him on the street, walking toward her, a young girl in his arms. Something had changed.

  The gremlins with him walked with a slower gait, less urgent, weariness bowing their shoulders.

  Edeen hurried toward them, heedless of the cuts on her feet. “The child?”

  “She’s alive,” Roque said, not meeting her gaze.

  She looked to one of the gremlins.

  Frowning, he slid his helmet off his bald head. “There were two pulses when we began.”

 

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