The Forsaken

by Laura Thalassa

  “Now you be safe, and come find me straight away when your situation changes,” Jericho said, propping the door open with his body.

  I let out a disturbed little laugh that ended in a whimper.

  He clasped my hands in his dry, wrinkled ones. “For the record, you might smell damned, but I know an innocent soul when I see one.”

  “Thank you?”

  He nodded, more to himself than to me, and left me there. I stared after the emporium, my mind a tangle of thoughts.

  “I am seriously considering chaining you to our bed.”

  I yelped at the sound of Andre’s voice.

  He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and prowled towards me, the muscle in his jaw feathering. “That seems to be the only way to keep you out of danger these days.”

  “I had to come.” Had he overheard my conversation with Jericho? Did he know?

  “Here?” Andre gazed up at the weathered sign. In the late evening, on the abandoned street, the musty books and faded antiques seemed a little wilted behind their glass casing. “Whatever for?”

  He hadn’t overheard. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or anxious at that.

  “Cecilia had given me another task.”

  His brows rose. “Why didn’t you tell me?” If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Andre sounded hurt.

  “I needed to be alone.”

  “‘Needed’?”

  “Wanted,” I corrected.

  Andre nodded. “As you’ve done most things lately.”

  I took a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He paced forward, refusing to put space between us. “Animals find quiet places to die alone. They sequester themselves away from the living.”

  And I was the dying animal in question.

  “It might be a stretch to call you ‘living.’”

  He stared me down until I squirmed. I held my hands us. “Okay, okay, it’s a distinction without a difference.”

  “You’re not denying the rest of the statement.”

  I bit my upper lip, sucking it in. “What do you want me to say?” I whispered. “I can’t pretend my situation away.” I hated feeling like I was waiting death out.

  Andre ran a hand through his hair. “You should’ve told me. All of this.” He reached out and stroked my face. “My God, soulmate, I don’t want you to shut me out. That’s the last thing.”

  I glanced back at the window, feeling far, far older than seventeen. “I’m sorry.” Not that I had any intention of giving up the rest of my secrets.

  “I don’t want your apologies, I want your faith. I’m losing you—and not even to the devil. I’m losing you to your own demons.”

  A traitorous tear snaked out of my eye. I was a big fucking mess.

  His gaze latched onto the tear. “No,” he said, his eyes flashing. “You made me a promise,” his voice shook; I realized it was because he was scared. Absolutely petrified, “you wouldn’t give up on me. You’d continue to fight.”

  “What do you think I’m doing here? I haven’t broken that promise.”

  Andre growled and ran a hand through his hair. “It infuriates me that you can be so reasonable about this. Ay, dios mio, I need to hurt someone.”

  “Andre?”

  His stormy eyes met mine.

  “I could really use a hug right now.”

  He exhaled, and then I was enveloped in his embrace, my body squished against his hard chest. I could feel his agitation drain away as he held me. I held tightly to him, like I might drift away if I let him go.

  “I’m frightened,” I admitted. Here in Andre’s arms, I didn’t have to pretend to be tough.

  His words were barely a breath on the breeze. “So am I, love. So am I.”

  Only once I was safely back inside Bishopcourt did Andre relax. As we moved through his estate, he kept me close—a hand at the small of my back, an arm slung around my waist, fingers threaded through mine.

  Finally Andre simply picked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and carried me to his bedroom.

  This position was one of the few times where I was able to stare down at him. “Sleepy?” I asked, watching those smoldering eyes of his.

  He grinned up at me. “Are you ever not irreverent?” He was in a better mood.

  I smirked back at him. “It’s part of my charm.” I was also feeling a bit perkier.

  He kicked the door closed behind us, and all traces of humor were gone from his face.

  “I need you,” he said simply.

  I’d like to say that lines like that didn’t do me in. But I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t work.

  The last of the panic that had consumed him since he found me outside Jericho’s Emporium only subsided once nothing separated us.

  He moved against me, holding me close, his lips skimming my neck. He breathed me in, and I heard him shudder. He had to smell the death clinging to me.

  Andre leaned his head against mine. “It’s you and me, soulmate. Always.” His fingers slid between mine, and I squeezed his hands, afraid he’d slip through mine if I didn’t hold on firmly enough.

  I fought down the lump in my throat. I wouldn’t be sad. Not now.

  We were together. We were meant to be. My fate and his didn’t matter. I could be a world away from him, and I’d still love him. Nothing would change that. Not death. Not the devil. Nothing.

  Our lips crashed together anew, and we finished what we started with all the franticness of two lovers who knew their time was coming to a close.

  I lifted my head from the pillow. “Where’s my T-shirt?”

  Andre raised an eyebrow. He looked like a cat that had lapped up all the cream.

  I reached out and traced his lazy features, awed that I could make anyone look that way. “You told me that I’d know when I’d ‘done that and gotten the T-shirt.’ So now I’m wondering where my shirt is.”

  Andre’s brow furrowed for a moment as he stared at me. Then he threw his head back and let out a surprised laugh. When he caught his breath he said, “You mean to tell me a ring wasn’t enough?”

  “Not nearly. I’m planning on bleeding your bank account dry.”

  At that, Andre laughed again. “That will take some time—especially if you plan on draining my funds via T-shirts. But the lady will get what the lady wants.”

  After a pause he added, “I believe this is what you call being ‘whipped.’”

  I gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Punk.”

  Flashing a wicked smile, he rolled back on top of me, and kissed me thoroughly, his muscles bunching and releasing with the movement, and another hour was given up to complete and utter bliss.

  Chapter 26

  Two days left.

  My eyes snapped open and stared at the ceiling. Not even two full days. Tomorrow evening he’d come for me. My hands twisted the sheets beneath me. I could taste my own fear at the back of my throat; I was practically choking on it.

  What a way to wake up.

  I drew in a deep breath. My chest tightened, and I began to cough. The action shook my entire body, and my heart fluttered arrhythmically before quickly righting itself.

  That … couldn’t be good.

  A hand rested on my exposed back. “Soulmate?”

  Andre’s naked body leaned over mine, and I realized we’d fallen asleep together this way. A blush should’ve spread across my face, … but my alabaster skin stayed eerily pale.

  “Are you okay, love?” Andre’s voice was so gentle.

  I nodded even as I continued to cough.

  A vertical line bisected his brow. He threw the covers off, his form blurring. The door opened and slammed shut.

  No more than five seconds later, he’d returned with a glass of water and a blood bag. He’d even managed to get a pair of pants on.

  I sat up, taking the items from him as he handed them over. I took a sip of water, the liquid soothing the raw skin of my throat.

  The blood bag wou
ld have to wait; I couldn’t possibly drink it right now. Maybe later.

  Two days.

  Fear flooded my veins. Too soon. Far too soon. I wasn’t ready to leave this man, this life.

  Andre’s nostrils flared. He knelt next to my bed and took my hand. With his other, he brushed my hair back. “You’re fine, soulmate, and tonight will be fine.”

  I nodded. If I spoke, he’d know my fear hadn’t stemmed from his assumptions.

  But at the mention of this evening, I suppressed a groan. He and I were going to have to face off with his coven. They undoubtedly wanted to tear me to shreds now that they knew that, one, the devil had a massive hard-on for me, and two, I was supposedly going to lead to all their deaths.

  Yay.

  I could hardly freaking wait for tonight.

  An hour later, after choking down a sip or two of blood, showering, and getting changed, I left Andre’s room … and promptly ran into Vicca.

  Not literally, thank you baby Jesus. I hear that bitchiness is contagious on contact, and I already had had plenty, thank-you-very-much.

  Up until now, Andre had managed to keep all vamps away from Bishopcourt, most likely out of fear they’d kill me the moment he wandered away from me. However, tonight that all changed, my current situation case in point.

  I ignored her. I might have to play nice with all vampires, but that didn’t mean I had to go out of my way to make friendly with the woman who’d abducted me mere weeks ago.

  Vicca, however, had other ideas. Her nostrils flared. For an instant, she looked startled. “You smell like sickness.” She drew her head back. “Andre risks his coven’s lives and his to protect a weak, dying girl? It’s so unlikely I wouldn’t believe it if I weren’t standing in front of the proof.”

  Andre chose that moment to exit his room. “Soulmate, I thought we were going to walk together—?”

  His eyes fell on the lovely Elder currently curling her lip at me.

  “Vicca,” he said, his tone cool, “what are you doing outside our room?” Andre came up to me, draping an arm around my waist.

  I didn’t miss his deliberate use of our, or the possessive way he pulled me into his side. Normally I wasn’t a fan of these dominant maneuvers, but considering Vicca had been eyeing me like she might just off me and save everyone else the time and trouble, I’d take it. Gladly.

  “Coming to get you,” Vicca said. “Your coven awaits.”

  We gathered in the same room where I was first announced to the coven over four months ago. Like last time, we were the center of attention—though perhaps they were a little angrier now than they were before.

  I sat next to Andre in a chair someone had drawn up for us on the room’s stage. Though we were supposedly the target of the coven’s wrath, the arrangement made me feel exalted; they’d either consciously or unwittingly enthroned us. Hell, knowing how much Andre’s coven respected and feared him, it probably was a nod to our bond.

  Not that they were happy about it.

  “You hid this from us!” one man hissed from the crowd. Murmurs erupted and vampires nodded, their brows furrowed and their eyes angry.

  Andre settled into his chair before he responded. “I hide much from you—from everyone. We have long known that not all truths should be voiced. This was one of them.”

  “She is your soulmate! This changes everything. You should be punished to the fullest extent of our law for what you did to Theodore on our behalf,” this was said by one of the few vampires that actually looked his age—that’s to say, old.

  Andre was calm when he spoke. “Theodore was the aggressor. He attacked Gabrielle after we’d extended our protection to her—even after I’d made it clear repeatedly that she was not to be harmed. It was Gabrielle or Theodore. My soulmate, who was being attacked, or my oldest friend, her attacker. Perhaps you can understand both my sacrifice and my actions under the circumstances. Or perhaps you cannot—and that is why I am king, and you are not.”

  Ouch. Even I felt the contact burn from that one.

  “A prophecy said she would lead to the extermination of all vampires—a prophecy you knew about. And not only did you not kill her, you saved her from someone that would,” Vicca said, her voice rife with accusation. “You put your interests before ours.”

  Andre stood, staring the female vampire down. “Do you not understand the nature of soulmates? Our natures our entwined. She dies, I die.” Some in the crowd hissed at Andre; others shifted restlessly.

  Andre sat back down and spent several seconds getting comfortable. “That is not a threat. It is simply the way of soulmates. You’ve heard the tales—they are true. I’ve experienced it firsthand. One cannot live without the other. Had Theodore been successful, we would all be burning in the fires of hell at this very moment.”

  That silenced the crowd.

  “Have you ever thought,” Andre continued, “that perhaps Gabrielle’s death would be what caused the extermination of vampires?”

  You could hear a pin drop in the room. Several long seconds ticked by as people digested this. I could see the realization dawning in their eyes … and the horror. These people were aware I was at the top of every supernatural hit list, and they could smell my ill health. They knew I’d kick the bucket soon, and if Andre spoke the truth, then his death could come on the wings of my own.

  “This is … a disturbing possibility we never considered,” one of the Elders said. Around him, others murmured their agreement.

  Andre inclined his head, acknowledging the vampire’s admission. The room’s rising anger deflated after that.

  In the silence that followed, Andre spoke once more. “The devil wishes to abduct my mate.” The words sighed out of him, so weary he sounded. “If he wills it, she’ll be dragged to hell and forced to lay with him.”

  My grip tightened on the arm rests. Andre reached out, covering my hand with his.

  A shudder worked its way through the crowd. Impressive that creatures who’d lost most of their humanity would still recoil at this. That definitely wasn’t good.

  Another vampire—Something Holloway—crept closer to the stage. He was the same man who interrogated me in Romania. “So, have you met him?” he asked, peering up at me.

  There was absolute silence in the room as the coven waited for my answer.

  I lifted my chin as I stared at them. “Yes.”

  I’d assumed that amongst all the secrets that had been published in the news, this would be among them. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but the gasps in the crowd told me that either way, no one had believed it until this moment.

  “Once?” Holloway gazed at me with curious eyes.

  Andre’s hand tightened on my own, before he withdrew it.

  I shook my head. “Too many times to count.”

  The vampire steepled his fingers, and pressed the tips of them to his lips. An excited gleam had entered his eyes. “Tell us everything you know about the devil and these visits.”

  Again, an eerie silence descended over the room as they waited with baited breath.

  Of course these men and women wanted to know. Just like me, the coven had been cursed to hell since the night they were turned. They’d probably spent centuries wondering what the devil was like, what their afterlife would be like.

  A glance over at Andre told me that he wouldn’t swoop in to save me from explaining myself.

  I inhaled. “The devil has always been a presence in my life, as far back as my memory goes.” Albeit, my memory was spotty before the age of seven.

  “Even when you were a child?” Holloway sounded incredulous.

  I nodded.

  “When you were young, what did you think he was?”

  I shrugged. “All children have night terrors. He was mine. I didn’t realize until I was a little older that he wasn’t just a night terror.”

  “And when you were older, what did you think of him then?”

  Next to me, Andre rubbed a thumb over his lower lip, watching me with con
templative eyes. I’d never told him this, I realized.

  My mouth opened, but I was at a loss for words. “I don’t know. I called him ‘The Man in the Suit’ because I had nothing else to go on. He would appear and disappear like a ghost, but he … wasn’t one.” I searched for words to explain what had always been inexplicable to me.

  Holloway saved me from having to finish the thought. “How often did he show up?”

  I had the room’s rapt attention. Maybe it was the crowd’s realization that my death—the very thing they’d been gunning for—might be what would lead to their own demise, or my unique insight into the lord of the Underworld, but they were staring at me with some strange mixture of wonder and awe.

  “As a child, the devil used to visit me once every several months or so. When I got older, he showed up less. That all changed, however, once I arrived here.”

  “You mean to the Isle of Man?” Holloway had become the unofficial interviewer for the evening.

  “Yes.”

  “In what way did it change?”

  All those visits … “He became bolder. He visited more frequently, came closer to me than he previously had, and he began speaking to me.”

  I didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the crowd as I spoke. My gaze fixed on some distant point above them.

  “Speaking to you?” Holloway repeated. “What did he have to say?”

  I pressed my lips tightly together, clenching one of my fists as I remembered the last time he’d spoken to me, right before he ordered Cecilia killed.

  “My soulmate does not wish to answer the question—”

  “The devil had lots of things to say.” My voice rose over Andre’s. “Sometimes he simply said things to scare me—he likes doing that. Other times he’d threaten or bribe me, and at least once he warned me of danger.” I didn’t mention the creepy way he’d been nice—if you could call it that—to me lately. As it was, I’d come too close to suggesting just that.

  It was the furthest thing from the truth.