Jaeger drew back, well aware of Celd's new position. Now that he was one of the Chosen, another Vector could be severely punished at just a word from him. Perhaps even made to suffer the horrible death Celd had described.
"I apologize, Celd,” Jaeger said, trying to sound contrite. “My only excuse is my illness."
Celd studied him for a moment, then abruptly smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.
"I understand, Jaeg. Believe me, I do. But you shouldn't think of it as an illness. It's simply part of who you are. Embrace it with joy.” He turned back toward the door, then stopped, his face thoughtful. “Oh, and if you see that Bleeder, you will tell me, won't you?"
Jaeger tipped his head in acknowledgment, his heart aching. Celd smiled and left. Jaeger immediately locked the door, then leaned against it in despair. What could he do? How could he go against one of the Chosen? He glanced toward the armoire, then slowly went to it. He touched the metal handle, then jerked backward in alarm. It had given him a jarring shock. Startled, he appraised his hand for a burn and found none. Still, the tingly sensation crawled up his arm like a snake twisting about his nerves.
"Rhiannon?” he whispered, shaking his hand. “He's gone."
The door swung open, though Jaeger had not seen the handle turn. He frowned in confusion. Rhiannon was crouched in the corner of the armoire, clutching the blanket to her bosom. Even in the dim light, Jaeger could see she was pale, her eyes half-lidded, as if with exhaustion. He reached for her, but she shook her head.
"Wait,” she murmured, closing her eyes. It was several moments before she opened them again, and they were glassy with fatigue. “Now,” she whispered.
Confused, Jaeger took her hand and helped her from the cupboard, then caught her as she collapsed. Alarmed, he picked her up and placed her gently on the bed.
"What is it?” he asked softly, brushing her dark hair from her face. “What's wrong? Could you not breathe in there? I shouldn't have allowed Celd to stay so long. I should have told him to leave at the first. I shouldn't even have let him in!"
Rhiannon quieted him with one small finger to his lips. “It's not lack of air, Jaeger,” she told him. “I just need to rest. I'll be fine. Lay beside me. Keep me warm."
Jaeger slid into the blankets beside her and pulled her into his arms. She was shivering, her skin cool to the touch. It only increased his panic. He rose and placed more wood on the fire, then fetched another blanket from the settee and covered Rhiannon before once more lying beside her.
"Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to help you?"
She gave a small smile and kissed him gently on the cheek. “You can feed on me,” she whispered.
He drew back with a gasp. “No! I would never do that, Rhiannon."
"You must,” she said. “You know that I am a Bleeder. Use your Vector senses, Jaeger."
He stared at her in confusion and uncertainty. Then, slowly, he became aware of the scent of iron. It rose into the air, hovered, then descended on him like a wet, heavy fog. It pressed against his skin, seeped into his pores, settled into his mind. It aroused him with a need that had nothing to do with sex, yet fueled his desire nonetheless. Frightened by the intensity of the sensation, he relaxed his hold on Rhiannon. She sighed and pulled him back.
"No,” he said again, though his willpower was faltering. “No, Rhiannon, please don't ask this. I can't take you, I won't.” He climbed from the bed, shaking, forcing his desires back. He was sure that once he began to feed on Rhiannon, he wouldn't be able to stop, that he would drain her completely in his wild lust, in his need for satiation. The very idea sent terror to his gut.
She nodded, though resignation lay heavy in her blue eyes. “I understand."
"Do you? Do you really? Do you understand that I might not be able to stop? This is all so new to me, Rhiannon. I ... I almost killed that boy in the stables. I might have, had not his companion wakened.” He paced to the fire and leaned one hand against the mantle. “I can't take the risk, not with you."
"Even if it means saving my life?"
He looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?"
"What do you know of Bleeders, Jaeger?"
He shrugged. “Not a lot. Only that they exist. They seem to have a way of regenerating their blood supply faster than most humans, from what I understand."
"That is the way of some,” she agreed. “Basically, they have too much blood and must be bled at regular times to keep from drowning in it. But there are other kinds of Bleeders as well."
"Others?” Jaeger shook his head. He was having a hard time concentrating on her words. The scent of iron was growing stronger, more enticing. His gaze drifted to her neck, and he rapidly forced it away.
"Yes. I am an iron Bleeder, for lack of a better term. I produce too much iron in my blood. The only way to get rid of it is to be bled."
He frowned, clutching the mantle tighter, determined to keep his distance from her. “And how do you know this?"
She smiled, though there was much sadness in it. “Because of what I am, Jaeger.” She rose, shedding her blankets.
Jaeger drew a quick breath as the firelight played off her creamy white skin. She approached him with catlike movements, setting his heart racing. His gaze went to her throat and stayed there.
"And what are you?” he rasped as she stopped directly in front of him.
She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. Her dark hair slid from her shoulders, baring her neck. Her artery pulsed, throbbing with each heartbeat, matching his own. Without conscious thought, he took her into his arms, closing his eyes, inhaling the intoxicating smell of iron. His mouth caressed her skin, tasting, touching. His tongue flicked out and drew a small, wet circle on her pulse. She let out a soft gasp and arched back in his arms. A heady rush of iron surrounded Jaeger, consumed him, drove him.
He tightened his grip on her, tangled one hand in her long tresses while he slid the other down her hips, and lifted her. Rhiannon wrapped her legs about his waist, her arms around his shoulders. The feel of her skin, reeking with the metallic scent of her blood against his was more than Jaeger could bear. She let out no more than a soft cry as his incisors pierced her flesh.
The first taste of her blood sent Jaeger's senses spinning. He drew more, dizzy with his need, his wants, his desires. She moaned and writhed in his arms. The movement, her taste, her sounds, pushed Jaeger to ecstasy. He took one last mouthful, and then threw back his head, ecstasy claiming him.
Rhiannon clung to him, her breathing hard and fast, her body limp. Jaeger stumbled to the bed, where he where he laid her down gently, and covered her. For long moments, neither of them moved nor spoke. Then Rhiannon smiled, her eyes already half closed.
"I'm a witch, Jaeger,” she mumbled. “A witch."
Chapter Seven
Jaeger sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze on Rhiannon. She slept now, the peaceful, innocent sleep of the satiated. Two, small bite marks stood out on her neck like tiny red beacons. Jaeger reached out and touched them gently, then drew back as she stirred. She opened her eyes and gave him a languid smile.
"Good eve,” she murmured.
"Good eve,” he returned softly. “It's time to leave. I've got everything packed."
"Must we go tonight?” she protested, her voice weak.
"Yes.” He pulled her from the bed, trying to ignore her nakedness. “I've purchased you some clothing that will fit you far better than—"
"You went out?” she interrupted.
"Yes.” He frowned, puzzled by her alarm.
"But the townspeople, they..."
"Don't know me,” he finished. “I use two Illusions, neither of them receptive to conversation.” He hesitated, handing her the white, linen blouse and brown, wool skirt he had bought. “What do you see when you look at me, Rhiannon? What did you see that first time you opened your eyes on me?"
She smiled, relaxing, her panic fading. “A very handsome and desirable man. A man who sets my heart racing, who
brings my sexuality alive."
Jaeger flushed at the words. “Rhiannon,” he began, “I want you to know that this is not my usual behavior. I ... I mean, I don't usually...” He faltered, gesturing feebly at the bed.
Rhiannon giggled and pressed against him. “Nor do I, Jaeger,” she purred. “But I knew the moment I saw you that we belonged together."
He took a deep breath, feeling the sweet warmth of her body next to his. He wanted to make love to her again, to reach that pinnacle of delight with her one more time. Sternly, he chastised himself for his constant lustful thoughts and gently pushed her away.
"We need to leave, Rhiannon,” he said softly.
She nodded and began to dress. “And where do we go? You must have shelter before daybreak."
The words stung, and Jaeger involuntarily winced, though he knew them to be true. “There is another village not far from here. We will go there, and from there to another village, and yet another, until we are well away from this place."
Rhiannon tied the blue sash about her waist. Jaeger had bought it for no other reason than that it reminded him of her eyes. She pulled on her boots and eyed him thoughtfully. “And what do we flee?"
Jaeger was surprised at her perception, yet he did not want to tell her the truth. He didn't want to tell her how witches were sought after by Vectors, to become not only their mates, but their slaves. Now Jaeger understood why Celd's thoughts had centered on Rhiannon, on finding her, on making her the hostess for his child. He intended to take her in mind, body, and spirit. He would completely possess her, forcing her to do his bidding, increasing his strength and power through her use of magic and spells. It was something Jaeger was determined to thwart.
The only way to prevent Celd from having his way with Rhiannon was to run. If Celd came asking for Rhiannon, Jaeger wouldn't be able to deny him. Celd was one of the Chosen now, and with that title came power. It was a position and power far above any that Jaeger could ever hope to hold.
He picked up the pack and slung it over his shoulder, then took Rhiannon's hand and kissed it. “I never stay long in one village. I'm a wanderer, I guess. I've already paid for the room. Let's go down the back way."
She agreed, allowing him to lead her down the narrow staircase and into the dark alley. Jaeger kept to the shadows, moving quickly and quietly, hoping Celd was busy elsewhere. He took a quick whiff of the air around him, noticing the lack of the iron scent. His gaze shifted to Rhiannon. Apparently, when he bled her, he had succeeded in tempering the smell of iron. And if Celd couldn't sense her, he couldn't come after her. Jaeger wondered if she had been aware of this, if that was also why she had been so insistent upon being bled.
They walked in silence until they were well clear of the village; then Jaeger stopped and removed the pack. Rhiannon watched him with obvious curiosity.
"I do not expect you to walk the distance to the next village,” he told her. “I will shapeshift."
"I've never seen such,” Rhiannon said softly, true awe in her blue eyes. She picked up the pack and stepped back.
Jaeger took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and allowed himself to shift into a horse. It was a stretch, he knew that, but he was counting on the strength Rhiannon's blood had given him. He wasn't sure how long he could maintain the shape and only hoped it would last until they could get to another village safely.
Rhiannon laughed softly and approached him. She ran one hand along his neck, then looked directly into his dark eyes.
"You make a proud stallion,” she whispered. “Can you understand me?"
He bobbed his head up and down. He could understand her quite well, though he would not be able to converse with her until he shifted back. He bent his forelegs to allow her purchase to his back. Once she'd settled, he straightened and turned north.
Rhiannon leaned low over his neck and whispered into his ear, “You know, don't you, that a horse is a very sensual animal?"
Though he was sure it was impossible, Jaeger thought he blushed. With a toss of his head, he broke into a gallop, praying that Celd was nowhere near.
Morning came sooner than Jaeger had expected. As the skies began to lighten, his strength waned, slowing his gait from a gallop to a slow trot and, finally, a walk. Rhiannon pulled against his mane, halting him, and slid from his back.
"That's far enough,” she said. “You have to change back."
Jaeger had no energy left to argue. He shifted almost without willing it, and then stumbled and sagged to the ground, exhausted. Rhiannon knelt beside him, wrapped her arms about his shoulders, and gently kissed his cheek.
He glanced toward the horizon where the village lay nestled on a mountain slope. “I'm not going to make it, Rhiannon,” he whispered. “I'm too tired to walk, and the sun..."
She frowned, following his gaze. “I have an idea, Jaeger, but I don't know if you can do it."
"I can try,” he said.
"I know shifting is draining for you, but if you could shift into something very small, like a mouse, I could put you in my pocket and protect you from the sunlight."
Jaeger stared at her, actually amused by the prospect. He had never done anything such as she was suggesting, but it didn't seem there was any other choice. He didn't relish the thought of having his skin seared by the sun. Still, he wasn't sure if he had enough energy to shapeshift at all, even to something small, let alone hold the shape. He needed blood, but he wasn't about to ask her for it. No, he would take his chances. Besides, the village didn't look that far away. Jaeger glanced again at the rising sun.
"Very well."
It was harder than he expected, his need for blood more pronounced than he had guessed. Rhiannon picked him up gently and held him up to eye level.
"No matter what form you take, Jaeger,” she cooed, “you're incredibly handsome.” She leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on the nose before tucking him gently into her skirt pocket.
Jaeger settled down in the folds of the cloth, feeling at once protected, yet very vulnerable. Though he possessed great strength and was able to heal from any injury rapidly, he was not immortal. He could be killed if the right weapon were used. In such a small form, it would be an easy task to either impale him with an oak stake or drown him. He doubted that he had the energy to transform back to Vector shape in an emergency. The thought sent his heart pounding, and he prayed that he had, indeed, put his faith in the right person.
She began to walk, and he was soon lulled to sleep by the rhythmic motion. He had no idea how long he had slept when a man's voice woke him. He listened intently as Rhiannon made arrangements for a room, using money from his pack. Filtered light came dimly through the heavy fabric of her skirt, and Jaeger was glad that he had chosen wool. Once in their room, Rhiannon bade him wait a moment while she covered the windows, shutting out the bright sunshine. Only then did she take him out of her pocket. She set him on the wide bed and lay down beside him.
"I know you need blood, Jaeger,” she said softly. “Here's a thought. What if you take the blood from me in your present form? It seems that you wouldn't need as much. Maybe just a few drops."
He peered up at her. He had never heard of such a thing before. She held her hand forward, her finger near his mouth.
"Just a few drops, Jaeger,” she said again.
Jaeger hesitated, unsure what to do. If he shifted back to his ordinary form, he would need to feed soon. After expending so much energy, he didn't know if he could wait until nightfall. Still, he didn't know if her suggestion would even work. He could be inflicting pain on her to no avail. He didn't want to do that either.
"Please, Jaeger,” she whispered. “I shouldn't want you to be trapped in a mouse form.” She smiled coyly. “And I shouldn't think you'd want to be."
Jaeger would have chuckled if he could have. Instead, he quickly bit into her finger, drawing blood. She let out a little gasp of pain but did not withdraw her hand. Jaeger drank down the blood almost as fast as it flowed, feeling strength course
through his mouse's body. Whether or not that strength would be there when he changed back to Vector form, he didn't know.
When he was satisfied, he drew away and once more shifted. It was surprisingly easy, and he looked at Rhiannon in amazement. “How do you know so much?"
She shrugged, moving into his arms. “It's a gift."
"No,” Jaeger murmured, breathing in her essence. “No, Rhiannon, you are the gift. A gift I don't deserve."
"And why not, Jaeger?” she asked, her voice sleepy.
He kept his answer to himself, burying his face in her soft tresses. Yes, she was a rare and beautiful gift. And he was terrified she would be taken from him.
Jaeger held her close, feeling her slip into exhausted slumber. Once he was sure she was asleep, he left her to make a fire. Thoughts tumbled through his weary mind, but they always arrived at the same conclusion.
Jaeger had to leave her.
He had to get her to a safe place where Celd couldn't find her, then he had to leave her. His presence, that mysterious whatever-it-was that drew one Vector to another, would only attract Celd's attention. Just as he had drawn their attention to his mother.
His father had made the decision to take him away from her, for them both to leave her so she could live out her life safe from Vector hands. But he was young. He did not understand why he could never see his beloved mother again. He had pleaded with heart-rending sobs to stay with her. In the face of this, she could not bear to let him go. She had begged his father to stay.
His father could not refuse her even this. Particularly this. It was a decision hastening both their deaths.
And it was all because of him.
His gaze drifted to the bed, and his heart spasmed with grief. How could he leave Rhiannon? He loved her.
The mental pronouncement startled him. He loved her. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want to be without her soft touch, her gentle ministrations, her mysterious wisdom. He straightened, abandoning his attempts at the fire.
Blood Bred Series Book 1: Gift Of Love Page 5