Noble of Blood Trilogy Box Set: All 3 books; Blood Price, Blood Ties, and Blood War in 1 set

by A L Wright

  Nikka concentrated on her entire body, building a bright white glow around it like she had seen her grandfather and Yosan do. It built up quickly and with it came an intense heat, and it was so bright that she could barely see beyond it.

  Her eyes watering from the intensity, she made her way forward. The Nobles stepped aside at her burning touch on their shoulders, letting her pass to the front. She vaguely heard her father and Victor call her name as she kept moving forward into the press of the goblins. The enemy was blinded completely by her glowing form and anything that contacted the light around her was immediately burned to a crisp. Weapons burned to ash, skin melted, and on in to the enemy she moved.

  Once she was fully into the hallway she stopped, one thought on her mind; complete destruction. Concentrating, she built more force and heat into the shield she wore until it pulsed and begged to be released. At last, she let go of the hold she had on it, and outwards the light rolled. Onwards it screamed down the hallway into the cavern they passed through earlier, and down all the other hallways that were connected to it. Everything the light touched burned away, leaving piles of ashes and bone in its wake.

  Nikka stood still for just a moment, listening to see if any other goblins were running down the hall towards them. Hearing nothing coming and smelling nothing but burnt flesh, she turned back to the other Nobles, who were finishing off the last of the goblins in the cavern.

  Victor ran quickly over to her, her father and the Warlocks right behind him. Victor reached up and wiped a smear of blood off her chin, but her attention was not on him. She could hear her father berating her and her grandfather trying to ask how she felt and Yosan telling her father to calm down, so they could all discuss this later.

  Nikka heard them all distantly, but she still was not paying them any attention. Slowly she moved forward, back into the cavern, looking up at the ceiling all the while. The white light she had sent out had brightened the entire cavern network and had caused the goblins’ scratching’s on the walls to almost glow.

  But now, on the ceiling of the cavern, was a new drawing. A very large and very well drawn picture of an eye, snake-like in the iris, with lashes that sprang forth like a sweeping wing. The eye bore down on them, piercing like an actual gaze, and held Nikka almost in thrall. The group around her looked up where she was gazing so intently, and a hush fell over them all.

  For many moments no one spoke, just stared at the symbol as it stared right back at them.

  “What does it mean, grandfather?” Nikka finally whispered.

  “It means that unfortunately we were right; the Deep Dweller is still alive, and we have woken him.”

  Continue reading for Book Three; Blood War….

  Book Three

  Blood War

  The Ultimate Sacrifice is in Blood

  PROLOGUE

  The heat was intense. The air around her felt thick, even though the fire evaporated the oxygen and her breathing came in short gasps. Flames rolled around and away from her in waves, white-hot close to her body, and turning yellow then orange the further out they went, the reaching tips bright red as the blood spilled across the dried and cracked earth. The ground was stained, coated thickly with layers of life's blood from humans and goblins both.

  Hudreia hummed a tuneless melody, slightly off-key and cracking here and there as her breaths pulled less and less air. Her throat was dry, her mouth was parched, and her skin felt blistered. All the sweat immediately dried out against the flames. But still she hummed. Once every couple of moments a word or two would escape her cracked lips. As her voice fell quiet, so too did the flames. Her knees hit the brittle earth, her hands slapping down in front of her in an effort to keep herself from falling flat onto the ground covered in the blood of her enemies, and the blood of her friends.

  “Hudreia,” Yosan was running towards her, water skin in one hand, wooden cup filled with blood in the other. “Hudreia, you are going to kill yourself expending your magic as you did. Your body cannot deplete energy and fight off the heat at the same time for so long!”

  He dropped down on his knees next to her, handing her the water skin first.

  “Thank you,” she whispered dryly, then drank half of the water skin straight off.

  Yosan grunted as he traded the water skin for the wooden cup. “Drink this slowly now. No need to shock your system.”

  Hudreia willed herself to slow down, merely sipping the fresh blood against her urge to down it all in one gulp. She gasped as Yosan tipped the water skin upside down and poured the water over her shoulders, soaking her tunic.

  “You are bright red. Your cheeks resemble a tomato.” His attempt at humor fell flat. They were both well aware they were kneeling upon ground more red than she was, made redder by the flames that had dried the earth.

  “I will heal, as soon as I rest,” Hudreia said, not putting any effort into getting up. The drained cup in her hands now rested on the ground between her knees, her grip lax. Her head rolled back, and she closed her eyes. Breathing slowly as she felt the blood course through her body, seeking to replenish what she had spent. The blood was only a temporary fix, though. She desperately needed sleep.

  She felt her knees leave the ground as she was raised into the air. Rolling her head into Yosan's shoulder, she gripped the cup to her abdomen in a feeble attempt to stay attached to something, to keep herself awake just a few moments longer.

  “Is it over now, Yosan?” she asked her fellow Warlock, as her eyes drifted closed.

  “Now that you've burnt everything in and around the tunnels into the mountain, Mortul will collapse them and finish the job. Nothing can survive all of that.”

  If Yosan said anything after that, she did not hear him. Hudreia was fast asleep before they even left the bloody, burnt field.

  Chapter 1

  Yosan pulled his dagger free of the goblin’s neck and shoved the filthy creature to the ground. He didn’t often kill with the dagger, but it was the end of a very long day, at the end of a very long week and he was quite spent. The black of the metal flashed a dark red. The redness then floated on the surface of the dagger, akin to a bloody fog. The fog crept up the blade and over the hilt to settle around Yosan’s hand. Bit by bit, the red fog closed around his hand, seeping into his skin, allowing him to absorb the goblin’s life essence.

  The warlock stood still, eyes closed, savoring the feel of the essence filling his being. Now that the fight was over, he directed the energy to his tired body and let his weary mind full of spells finally rest. For a moment, the world around him went away, shut out by the concentration it took him to focus on healing his physical discomforts. When he at last reopened his eyes, the bloody red field came back into view, littered with hundreds of goblin corpses, and a few corpses of their own kind.

  Several feet away, Mortul stood watching him, questions in his eyes. Yosan wasn’t quite ready to give up this secret of his blade and sighed a breath of profound relief when a ranger ran up to the Patriarch, speaking urgently.

  “It seems we’ve finally cleared this area. Your travel to the old village should be unhindered now.” Mortul approached him, covering the several feet of distance in a few long strides. His friend settled a hand on his shoulder. “Go find Nikka and Victor. They secured a campsite to the south of here and should have a few tents set up. Rest, my friend. The rest of us will be along once we discard of these wretched corpses.”

  He knew Mortul was just as tired as he was, but as their leader, he was determined to see the end of this battle. Dartein and his father would bury their dead separately, and then preside over a small funeral. It is a bitter thing, losing any of their kind. Though eternal-lived, they could be killed if overcome, and It was not as though they could reproduce as humans could. But then again when they turned a Noble, they were already grown into the pinnacle of adulthood, the difficult part of growing up left behind at their human parent’s doorsteps. The most important thing, however, was that those Nobles had been allowed a c
hildhood. They grew up in amazement of the wide world around them, learning to love and cherish and yes, even to fear. All those things made a Noble appreciate their human roots and fight even harder to protect them.

  Yosan was nearly back to camp before he found that he still held the dagger tightly in his right hand. He loosened his grip and sheathed the blade, murmuring a prayer of thanks for the magical weapon. Without it, there would have been many battles that would have claimed his life had the blade not claimed the enemies’ life first. It couldn’t be used more than a couple of times during a battle, as even the Noble body had limits to the amount of life force it could absorb. He himself had never been able to kill more than twice in a row with it, and each time it had overwhelmed him and put him on his knees temporarily. It took a few extra moments to direct the energy those times, and had any creature come upon him then, he would have been an easy target.

  Nikka hurried over to him as he entered the camp; currently only a handful of tents built around a small fire pit. She handed him a few slices of rabbit meat wrapped in large leaves.

  “I thank you child, but I am not sure I can eat. I’ve absorbed too much as it is.”

  “You should take at least a few bites, put something in your stomach. You will sleep better.”

  He chuckled under his breath as he took the wrapped bundle. Yosan had heard Hudreia tell him much the same thing many times over the years. He had assumed it was just habit from her human days, but hearing Nikka say it had him thinking it was more of a maternal instinct. Nikka had never had the opportunity of a normal human childhood.

  His partner, Hudreia, was not here with them. She was safely away from the battle, in the southern reaches, taking care of what would soon be sturdy mounts for Nikka and her Grandfather, the Patriarch. And while he was glad of her safety, he knew that had she been here, she would have been capable of just as much death and destruction as he, maybe even more. They had traveled together for centuries, and he knew Hudreia was ruthless when it came to cutting down goblins.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Your father and grandfather will be gone for a couple more hours. That should give you time to set up the rest of the tents.”

  “Please take whichever tent you desire, eat and rest. You have another journey ahead of you tomorrow and need to be prepared.”

  Yosan felt too weary to think about tomorrow. He picked the closest tent and sat down cross-legged in front of it to eat his meal. Nikka, satisfied after seeing him take a bite, turned and hurried back to Victor and the pile of tent gear near the fire pit. He watched them assemble the squat tents methodically, speaking in low voices to one another. Now and then Victor would bend over and kiss her on the forehead, and she would stroke his cheek in return. The sight made him miss Hudreia even more, as they would share a tent, and after a battle they would exhaust any leftover energy upon each other.

  It was the best way to expend the unnatural energies gained from killing with the blade or by drinking blood fresh. Of course, not everyone had the luxury of a partner. He knew Nikka had taken blood during both the fight in the cavern and out here, as well. Yosan thought about telling her how to deal with it but felt odd speaking about such things to her. Besides, the way she and Victor were touching and feeling one another, she would figure it out soon enough.

  Sighing and tossing away the empty blood-streaked leaves, he turned and crawled into the tent. More leaves piled on the floor gave a cushion for his body, and after he rolled up his cloak and put it under his head for a pillow, he found he was mostly comfortable and started to relax. The food in his stomach did indeed give him a warm feeling, which furthered his relaxation. Before he drifted off, he thought that he would have to tell Hudreia she now had a partner in maternal crime. And he was thankful for that.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Nikka was not sure if Victor could tell, but every time he kissed her on the forehead or touched her in any small way, it set her on fire. She didn’t understand, being as exhausted as she was, why she was so charged up. At first, she thought it was just because they had only ever shared the one time together and she was impatient for it to happen again, but the more she thought about it, the need wasn’t coming from her memories of the first time. It was coming from the pit of her stomach. A churning vortex that demanded release, but not in any magical spell-casting way.

  By the time the tents were all assembled, and the first rangers came back to the camp, she was ready to drag Victor off somewhere and let the rest of the world fend for itself. As for Victor, watching her with sly eyes and a small smile, she could tell he was quite amused by her. He could probably guess quite easily what it was that she needed but would have no idea the real reason behind it.

  Her patience broke. She drew Victor in for a tight hug, pressing herself against him.

  “Victor, dear, you and I are heading into the trees over there, and we are going now.”

  The look in her eyes made his widen. “We should wait for your father to come back to camp.”

  “It would be better if we didn’t announce to him what we are running off to do.”

  Victor’s hesitation melted, and he strode ahead of her, pulling her along at first by her hand. When they were just a few yards from the camp, he stopped and picked her up and carried her into the trees. Nikka flung her hands around his neck and began to kiss his cheek and his chin. She thrust her hands into his short hair and gently tugged as she nipped at the side of his neck, licking the bitten areas after she let go.

  Suddenly he stopped and set her down on her feet, up against a large tree. Putting arms to either side of her he pressed his body firmly against her. He looked as if he was about to say something, but Nikka reached up and silenced him with a kiss that turned deep quickly. Victor grabbed her by the buttocks and lifted her up, so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Pressed tight between him and the tree, she could barely breathe but didn’t care. His maleness was now throbbing against her, rubbing up and down against her most sensitive areas.

  Pulling her head back with a small cry bordering between needful and desperate, she arched her back the best she could against the tree and pressed herself more firmly against him. She heard him suck in a deep breath and catch it, holding it for a moment, and then letting it out in a low moan that made her grin. Nikka thought briefly about detaching herself so she could lie down, but Victor had other ideas.

  Pinning her back tight against the tree with his upper body and propping her bottom up with one knee, Victor reached down and began untying the laces of her leather trousers. She clung to his neck to keep herself up and give him space to free her of her clothes. After he unlaced them, she bent one of her legs up and drew the pants down over it while he unlaced his own. Expecting him to let her free her other leg, she was surprised when he pressed her back against the tree before she could.

  Victor kissed her again, deeply, exploring her mouth until she was breathless. As they kissed, he rubbed thumbs over her nipples from outside of her shirt, setting her nerves on fire. All of a sudden, he shifted his lower body to align with hers and thrust himself deep inside, surprising her with his aggressiveness, yet giving her exactly what she needed. Only a few more thrusts had her shaking in release, her head thrown back and her moans of intense pleasure greeting the dawn that was just then lightening the sky.

  They made their way back to camp slowly, exhausted both from their pleasurable foray into the forest, and from the sun that was well above the horizon now. The camp was quiet as only could be when full of nocturnal beings. A slight shimmer around the tents had Nikka pausing for just a moment until she remembered that her grandfather always set perimeter traps. The traps would recognize them for Nobles and would let them pass unharmed. Anything other than a Noble, however, would be seriously maimed by the shield.

  She shivered a bit as they passed through it, but Victor did not react at all. Nikka figured he had no idea it was there, but since she had opened herself up to the magic within herself she was now sensitive t
o the energy. She wondered briefly about other magic users, warlocks, in the world. What other possibilities were out there. And could they be roused to help in the war? If there were more, of course. Nikka was merely assuming the possibility.

  Passing through the tent flap, she pushed the thought from her head and fell to the cushioned ground, exhausted. She was awake for only long enough to feel Victor gather her against him from behind before she fell into the blackness of sleep.

  Waking to complete darkness had her confused, as she usually woke early enough to see the sun's final rays as it set on the western horizon. She felt around behind her to find Victor already gone from the tent and decided she had better get up and be useful. Running fingers through her hair to attempt to calm it, she exited their shelter to find most of the other tents already struck and packed away.

  Nikka stood there, unsure of what to do next until she saw Victor leading her horse over, saddled and ready to travel.

  “Here my love, put some food down while I strike the tent,” Victor said as he handed her both the reins and a packet of leaves. He kissed her on the forehead after she accepted both and quickly set to work on taking down the tent.

  The simple designs of the tents made them very quick to assemble and take down, and Victor was halfway finished with it before she had unwrapped the leaves and taken her first bite of the rabbit meat inside. He had the tent folded and lashed to her horse just as she finished her breakfast and tossed the leaves to the ground. By this time, it was fully dark, and the sudden dousing of the fires around the camp had her horse pushing his head into her shoulder for comfort.

  “Tut tut, boy. We won't let anything happen to you,” she said to him as she stroked his nose.