The Forsaken

by Laura Thalassa

  “Deal?” Andre’s brows slammed down. “Soulmate,” he said carefully, “we talked about this: you are not to make deals.”

  Oh, he was being real reasonable.

  “You wanted the seer’s shroud and I got it for us.”

  He twisted out of my hold so he could grip my upper arms. “I never intended for you to pay for it.”

  “I know that, Andre, but I didn’t have much choice.”

  “What did you promise?” he demanded.

  I opened my mouth to respond when I heard Oliver shout, “Skanks, are you done making little Andres? My ass is about to get as fried as those demons if I stay on church grounds much longer.”

  A moment later he came sauntering out around the church, Leanne on his heels.

  “Where’s Ophelia?” I asked Andre, noticing her absence.

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Oh, is he getting bossy?” Oliver yelled, picking his way through the tombstones to get to us. “I love it when he gets bossy.”

  I could tell Andre was now torn between extracting my secrets and throttling the fairy. His mood was darkening by the second.

  “Let me guess,” Oliver said, “you finally told him about last night’s preview of thunder from down under, eh?” Oliver waggled his eyebrows.

  Andre went still as stone, and I winced. Oliver just had to drop a bomb like that.

  Andre’s fangs slid out. “What is he talking about, soulmate?”

  Eep.

  Before I could answer, Leanne said, “Cough it up, Oliver.”

  “What?” He tried to look innocent.

  “Oh, you damn well know what. You lost the bet.”

  “What bet?” I asked.

  “The bet where Oliver insisted he could hold out on all sexual references to the devil—T-shirt aside—for a full day.” Leanne gave me a pitying glance. “Sorry, babe.”

  Oliver huffed, folding his arms. “I was under the influence of pixie dust when the bet was made. It doesn’t count.”

  “Does too. Now hand over the dinero buddy, or I’m not going to tell you how to run into that merman you’ll have a fling with on your—”

  Oliver whipped his wallet out so fast you’d have thought someone put a gun to his head.

  “That’s what I thought. Never bet a mother-effing seer,” she said as he dolled out several bills. “We’ll come and collect on your ass.”

  Oliver grumbled. “Taking advantage of poor, unsuspecting fairies …”

  Andre growled. “Enough of this. What happened last night, soulmate?” he demanded, recapturing my attention.

  I shook my head, my throat closing up at his intensity. “Nothing.”

  He stepped into me. “You’re lying,” he stated.

  “Lover’s quarrel,” Oliver said as he dragged Leanne away. “You don’t want to be here when shit hits the fan …”

  Andre lifted a lock of my hair and fingered it before bringing it to his nose. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes. They snapped open. “The devil.”

  His eyes widened with horror. “What did that hag have you do last night?”

  Should I tell Andre when he was like this? I’d inevitably have to talk him down from running the sorceress through with that sword of his. “I had to fetch Hestia a rose as part of my payment for the seer’s shroud,” I said. “I ran into some complications.”

  “Complications?” He ran a shaky hand over his mouth. “What do you mean complications? You come back to me with four vials of seer’s shroud and bleakness in your eyes.” His eyes unfocused. “You smell of brimstone …”

  His gaze sharpened and the connection between us flared as some terrifying thought hit him. He grabbed for my wrist and brought it to his face. For a moment I thought he’d bite me, but instead he inhaled.

  I tried to step away from him, but his grip held firm.

  “His scent is woven through yours.” Andre’s eyes snapped to mine. “What have you—?”

  A bloodcurdling scream interrupted us. Another joined it a moment later. My breath caught in my throat at the sound.

  My gaze met Andre’s. “Oliver and Leanne,” I whispered.

  Our pursuers had found my friends.

  I yanked my wrist from Andre’s grip and sprinted towards the source of the screams just as my two friends rounded the church, moving like hell was nipping at their toes. I smelled the metallic tang of blood the same instant I saw it seeping from Oliver’s temple.

  “They shot me!” Oliver screamed as he ran. “Oh my God, I’m going to die!”

  Next to him Leanne was white as a sheet.

  Andre’s form blurred as he ran to Oliver and threw the fairy fireman-style over his shoulders. I followed suit, grabbing Leanne and wrapping her body around my neck like a shawl.

  “We need to move. Now.”

  “Hestia might help.” As I spoke, I heard footfalls on the other side of the church moving quickly in our direction. Our attackers weren’t as fast as us, but they’d still spot us in another several seconds if we didn’t get going.

  “She will not interfere further, soulmate.” Andre readjusted Oliver’s weight, and then he took off, running faster than human eyes could track.

  I followed Andre blindly, not sure where he was going, but trusting him to know what to do.

  “I never saw it coming,” Leanne said as I ran. “I’ve been so worried about your future that I didn’t foresee his.”

  “Shh,” I said, vaulting over a rock. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.”

  Something whizzed by me, so close it stirred my hair. It thwacked into a tree, and when I caught sight of it, I had to give it a double take.

  Iridescent feathers tipped the shaft of the arrow lodged into the tree.

  Did none of these people use modern weapons?

  “Keep moving,” Andre ordered, not turning, “and use your hearing to avoid getting hit.”

  Behind me I could hear whoops and strange calls.

  “Who are they?” I said, ducking as an arrow whizzed by. Did anyone use guns these days.

  “Amazons,” Andre ground out.

  I balked even as I ran. “You mean the chicks that fought in the Trojan War? The ones that cut off their right breasts to better shoot? Those ones?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” he gritted out.

  Shit, shit, shit. And they were after my ass?

  I stopped, swiveled around, and caught sight of several women who looked just as badass as I had pictured.

  “Gabrielle!” Panic laced Andre’s voice.

  “Ceasefire!” I yelled at our assailants, willing the siren to enter my voice.

  One of them laughed in my face as she loaded and released another arrow. I jumped out of the way just as the arrow zipped by. Andre jerked my hand, and we began to run once more.

  “That should’ve worked.”

  “Earplugs, soulmate.”

  Well, there went that advantage. As we ran, Andre’s hair lifted, and from the snappy static that was coming off of him, I didn’t think the wind that was causing it.

  Andre was going into berserker mode.

  Crap.

  He still seemed to have some of his faculties with him, however, because I could hear Oliver murmuring directions to him and see him nod in response.

  A minute later, we entered the clearing I’d woken up in, and Andre slowed to a stop. He set a bloody Oliver down, and I slid Leanne off my shoulders. She stumbled over to Oliver, and I could hear her quiet sobs.

  Andre took in the felled trees. His nostrils flared, and I breathed in as well, not sure what I was scenting for. Beneath the smell of my friends, there was the stench of the damned … and me.

  He straightened, his expression turning malevolent.

  Going … going … gone.

  Andre’s inner demons consumed him, just like that night at Bishopcourt. His hair lifted and his coat flapped in an invisible breeze. He dragged his attention from me to our pursuers just as they came into our l
ine of sight. I could hear their footfalls and their easy breathing. They hadn’t seen us yet—not surprising considering that most supernaturals didn’t have night vision—but already they had their arrows notched into their bows, ready to aim and fire the moment they caught sight of us.

  Now that I got a good look at them, I could see their wide shoulders and impressive height. The metallic armor they wore glinted in the moonlight. They moved lithely, their footfalls light against the ground.

  They were beautiful, deadly, and even scarier than I had imagined.

  The moment they noticed us their weapons went up.

  Andre lifted his arms, and flames blossomed at his feet. A wall of fire roared to life in front of the four of us, arcing across the ground until it formed a protective circle.

  Under normal circumstances, turning one’s back on approaching Amazons was probably a death sentence. But having a vampire king channel his unholy power to protect you afforded me certain luxuries … like temporarily leaving him to his own devices.

  I made my way to my friends, who were huddled near the remains of the rose bush. Oliver’s usually coiffed ice blond hair was now matted with blood.

  I crouched next to him so that I could brush his hair out of his face. As soon as my fingers touched his face, I felt his feverish skin. “You’re burning up.” My voice quivered.

  He shivered. “Doesn’t help … that your boyfriend … lit the place … on fire.”

  I smiled at the fairy’s attempt at humor.

  “I can … get us out … of here,” Oliver rasped. “Get … Andre.”

  I pressed my lips together and stood up. My eyes met Leanne’s. She’d been zoning out—which likely meant she was foreseeing something—but as soon as our gazes met, her attention refocused.

  She nodded. “He’s going to be okay.”

  I blew out a breath and made my way to my possessed boyfriend.

  He stood at the edge of the circle, staring down the approaching Amazons.

  As soon as they caught sight of me, one let loose an arrow.

  Wrong move on her part.

  Andre blurred, stepping in front of me and catching the arrow before it ever had the chance to land. He studied the arrow, and he seemed calm enough, but the fire pulsed, expanding with his growing anger.

  He flipped the arrow in his hand, then threw it like a missile back at the shooter. The Amazon barely leapt out of the way in time.

  The remaining women had their weapons raised, but they held them in check now that they knew their opponent far outgunned them.

  Andre began walking towards the fire, his hair whipping about him.

  I grabbed his arm. “Andre, no.”

  He turned to me, his eyes unseeing. His fangs were down, and his lips twitched, like he was holding back a hiss.

  “We need to go.”

  His gaze moved back to the Amazons. “They need to die,” he said, his voice resonating. The fire pulsed outward.

  Well damn.

  “Maybe later, Andre.” I grabbed his hand.

  “Not later,” he said, staring them down. “Now.”

  At least I could reason with him.

  Not.

  Andre jerked his chin up and the bows the Amazons carried were yanked from their grip, as if by an invisible hand. And then that invisible hand crushed them. Wood splintered and metal crunched as the weapons splintered and broke.

  These Amazons may be scary-ass women, but they were also smart ones. As soon as their bows were destroyed, they hauled butt out of there. I didn’t doubt they had other weapons—I could see one’s holstered knife as she tore away from us—but I’m sure they already figured that those too would get destroyed the moment they pulled them out.

  And if metal could be pulverized that easily, human flesh—no matter how strong—would be putty at the hands of a deranged vampire king.

  Andre strode towards the fire that ringed us in, looking like he had every intention of following them. He stepped into the fire, and without thinking, I lunged after him.

  The flames licked up my body, and I screamed as they flayed open my exposed flesh.

  A moment later, I heard a roar, and then I was scooped out of the fire and laid down on the ground, the flames creeping along my clothes smothered by the press of gentle hands.

  Andre stared down at me with frightened eyes, and I could tell that whatever had possessed him now fled in the wake of my injury.

  “Gabrielle,” he choked out, “are you alright?”

  My skin still felt like it was burning, but I nodded. “Take me to Oliver.” He frowned but picked me up and brought me to my friends.

  Heat radiated from Oliver’s body and a tainted smell rose from his blood.

  He cracked his eyes open. “’Bout damn time.” He mouthed the words more than spoke them. “Touch me.”

  At any other time I would’ve said this was Oliver being lewd. Any other time but now. The three of us each laid a hand on Oliver’s chest. A moment later the ring of fire and the felled trees disappeared.

  Warm wind tore through my clothes from where I crouched amongst wild grass. Wherever we were, the night had the touch of summer to it.

  In front of me, Oliver moaned, drawing my attention back to him. That stench rose again from his blood. “What is that?” I asked.

  “Poison,” Andre stated. “Their arrows were tipped with it. You can tell by the smell.”

  Andre leaned over the fairy. “It’s a flesh wound. There’s a lot more bleeding than actual tissue damage, but the poison can still spread. I’m going to need to suck it out.”

  “I always … wanted … you to say … that … to me.”

  “Stop hitting on my soulmate,” I teased, earning myself a smile from the fairy. I wouldn’t mention how relieved I was to hear a joke coming out of him. It meant that he’d be okay.

  Andre bent to the wound. “This might hurt a bit,” he said, and then he placed his mouth against the fairy’s temple. Air hissed between Oliver’s teeth as Andre drew the poisoned blood out of him.

  Staring at the two of them, I couldn’t decide whether the situation looked more awkward or oddly erotic. Either way, it had me shifting my weight uncomfortably.

  Next to Oliver, Leanne held his hand tightly, whispering soothing platitudes in his ear. Gradually the smell of tainted blood left him.

  Andre pulled away from Oliver and leaned back on his haunches. “The poison is mostly gone from your system,” he said, discreetly wiping his mouth. “How do you feel?”

  Oliver groaned. “Like I got nailed with a tire iron—and I do mean iron.” From some dim recess of my mind I remembered that the metal was lethal to fairies.

  Andre nodded. “You’ll live—though you’ll have to ride off the last of the fever and you’ll need to eat soon to replenish your blood.”

  Andre stood and leveled a look at me. “Soulmate, we need to talk.”

  We stood on top of a rock formation that jutted far above the surrounding jungle, giving me a panoramic view. Wherever we were, it was lovely.

  Behind us, Leanne murmured to Oliver as the fairy came down from his fever.

  Andre and I stared out at the jungle for several seconds before either one of us spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I glanced over at him, vaguely alarmed. I was expecting him to say a lot of things, but not that. “For what?”

  He took my hand, the one that sported his mother’s—and now my—ruby ring.

  “For worsening your burden. I’m sure I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with for the last several days.” He smiled ruefully.” The truth of the matter is—” he stared at my hand as he spoke, “I’m petrified of losing you.”

  He glanced up at me, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. “I’ve lived for a long time. Long enough to grow apathetic to people, to the world. I’ve wished to die more times than I can remember, and the thing that has always stayed my hand is fear for my people and what lay on the other side of death. Now, fo
r the first time in a long time, I’m eager to live. Yet now I fear something far more greatly than even my people. I can’t lose you.”

  There wasn’t anything to say to that, so I didn’t bother. Instead I pressed our joined hands to my heart.

  Andre’s fangs slid out, and eyes bright, he kissed me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d craved the touch until he was there, pressing himself into me and enveloping me in his taste.

  My mouth parted, and his tongue stroked mine. Against the fire-burned tatters of my outfit, I could feel his taught muscles.

  My fangs slid out, nicking Andre’s tongue in the process. He groaned into my mouth as I tasted him. My skin began to glow at the sound. I’d forgotten that my undead boyfriend had a blood fetish. And while that still disturbed me on some levels, a much larger part of me was turned on at the thought.

  I was officially a freak—which was why I ran my tongue along one of his fangs until I drew blood. I was rewarded with another one of those delectable groans.

  Andre broke off the kiss suddenly, his grip tightening on me. I blinked up at him, dazed and a bit confused as to why we stopped.

  “Your scent is mixed with the devil’s,” he stated. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

  Well, that just took the fun out of everything. My skin dimmed and my fangs retracted.

  “What happened last night?” he asked, his voice gentling.

  I extricated myself from Andre’s touch. The devil kept coming between us.

  I toed a nearby pebble. “Last night the devil took me.” I kicked the pebble off the side of the outcropping. “I woke up this evening in that circle of fallen trees—that’s where Leanne and Oliver found me—with no memory of what happened after he took me.”

  My eyes finally met his. “Hestia called it tasting. He’s essentially getting a preview of my soul. That’s what happened when he took me, though I don’t remember it.”

  Andre’s brow wrinkled, his dark eyes shining in the moonlight. His expression was inscrutable, but I imagined horror dawned behind those lovely eyes of his.

  “Tasting.” Andre tried the word out. “I’ve never heard of it.”