Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

  “Aye… You are correct in the assumption. The Vampire Court of a previous age pushed

  their borders into the Sovereign Court in a purge on all Sidhe. Human blood was no longer

  enough, they had tasted Fae, found us intoxicating, strengthening their bodies to near

  invulnerability. The Queen for all her faults, bargained with the lesser Courts for their

  strongest warriors to stem the tide breaking down the barriers between dimensions. She

  succeeded after a long and bitter war, that saw countless deaths on either side. The final

  battle saw her marked mate, your Grandfather Lord Teyrnon used as bait to distract the

  remaining vampires in a feeding frenzy.” Drusal’s mental aura held distress and cold rage

  at a waste of flesh called female, an ignoble Queen’s betrayal of a bonded male.

  “The hole torn through dimensions quickly reconstructed, left Lord Teyrnon to waste away

  in a world not his own.” Grief for the loss of a good and noble male, tinged his thoughts

  with a searing pain. Cat experienced it second-hand. A keening cry left her lips as she

  rocked back and forth on sweet grasses.

  “She let her mate die to save the Realm? No wonder Grandmother is so lost to reason.”

  Growing sympathy for the Queen’s pain, softened the loathing she felt for a woman who

  treated her minions with sadistic contempt.

  “Save your sympathy Iscatya… Her plan for the Lord Teyrnon was a double edged sword.

  A well planned distraction to be rid of a mate she no longer had need of, and the complete

  decimation of a plague of blood-thirsty monsters. In one cold-blooded feint she disposed

  of your Grandfather to take another mate. Devyn, the Prince Vardon of the Green Hills,

  my beloved father…” Every word held disdain for a creature who would stoop to the

  destruction of a sacred mating, rather than simply disavowing a male, who had become an

  unwanted burden to a voracious creature.

  Icy shivers ran over Cat’s skin, her heart missed several beats.

  “I’m to be mated to my uncle…” Her mental scream was anguished. That was even more

  monstrous than killing her. Her desire for a man of the same blood line was a hideous

  nightmare. The memory of his kisses tainted with shame. “Cat no…”

  She withdrew from him, curling into a ball of numbed limbs and catatonic denial.

  “Iscatya listen to me… No blood relationship exists between us. I came with my father

  to defend the Court. I wish with all my heart we had stayed in Gaul.” Drusal meant every

  word, except, if he had not ventured to the Isles he would never have met his fate.

  Cat fell over backwards, arms and legs stretched out on the grass in resignation at the pull of

  a true mate to her spirit. The dawning, soul searing realisation that she actually cared for

  Drusal, the Lord Vardon hit her with a solid impact, right in the solar plexus. Gasping for air,

  tears for the loss of a Grandfather she would never know and the love of a male who was

  using her for his own devious plans, left a gaping hole in her heart.

  “You are coming to care for me…?” Drusal inched closer to the recumbent figure of a

  quietly seductive female, one who did not live up to his dreams of dazzling mate.

  Cat’s thoughts had leaked from a shielded mind, in a mess of distress. “I’ll get over it.”

  She told a lie for the first time in her life. Drusal would see right through it. Her mental

  wail was pathetically childlike. I want to run away…

  A cloud of comforting warmth engulfed her mind in a bid to calm the riot of emotions

  threatening to tear her head apart.

  “You have too noble a heart to turn away from a path that could eventually secure peace

  for all the Sidhe. I see your Grandfather in your empathy, the love you carry in a generous

  soul for all living beings.” Warm tones and vanilla scents, settled frazzled nerves.

  Cat sniffed, wiping away the last traces of tears with a shaky laugh.

  “Nice guilt trip…. Thanks.” She shot back with an indignant blast.

  “My pleasure Iscatya…” Drusal laughed, restraining the itch to reach out and hug her.

  Crawling to lay at her side instead, he braced his elbow in the grass.

  “Continue thy commune with nature, open your mind and learn your strengths.”

  Honeyed words whispered past her ear entreating her to accept her birth right, not reject

  it out of hand. Easier said than done…

  Cat relayed her reluctance right into the centre of his mind, breaching the shields he had

  erected. Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach to pinch a blade of grass between fingers

  and thumb. A faint trembling reached buried senses, life pulsed in her hand. The life force

  of the earth fed the world, from the minerals buried deep underground to an atmosphere of

  measured gases. All of it created to nourish her children, whatever form they took.

  Cat had looked further than the earth for the crushing blow that had risked Drusal’s life,

  reaching far beyond the planet she lay on had taken less than a second.

  Her mind overcame obstacles without conscious effort, her will ignored the impossible

  to supply what she needed. Jarl in his infinite wisdom and diabolical calm had told her

  days ago, all she had to do was bring her will to bear. Was it so simple?

  Fire… No problem. Phillipe could testify to that.

  The earth element had soothed her pain with the help of Drusal’s magic fingers. A shiver of

  desire ran down her spine as she glanced to the warrior at her side. He was sound asleep

  hands tucked behind his head, face thrown back to absorb the healing rays of the sun.

  Cat liked arguing with him, it made him less intimidating to know she could needle a proud

  warrior. A smile touched her lips as she gazed at the sculptured firmness of a mouth that

  had kissed her so expertly. A nagging doubt marred a moment of remembered intimacy.

  He had made it obvious that he found her unattractive in human form. Why on earth would

  he choose to stay with her, unless forced to by Queen Grandmother?

  Suddenly conscious that she had been stalked unknowingly for days, prior to Drusal’s sneaky

  entrance into her home, Cat let her senses roam the perimeter of the shield and beyond.

  Nothing but the life force of small animals and insects scurrying through dense undergrowth

  impinged upon her mind. Cat pulled at her bottom lip, shape shifters could be sitting in a ring

  around the barrier for all she knew. Was she able to recognise the innate difference?

  The growing need to control the glamour that shrouded her Sidhe heritage took hold and

  wouldn’t let go. Making sure Drusal was indeed asleep before she experimented, Cat jumped

  to her feet running lightly to the kitchen. Sneaking a quick peek over her shoulder at the long

  figure stretched out on the lawn, she set off at a run, taking the stairs two at a time in a frenzy

  of impatience. Locking the bathroom door behind her, Cat stood in front of a full length mirror,

  a frown of reluctance pulling at perfectly arched brows. Her glamour had cracked for the first

  time this morning. Could she disperse it consciously? Bring your will to bear…

  Jarl’s simple words of encouragement echoed in her mind.

  Closing her eyes Cat breathed deeply. I want to see Iscatya… Peeking through half closed

  lids she felt a faint tremor as the reflection shimmered to reveal her true form.

  Bloody Hell…. No way on this planet, would Lord Vardon
get to see all she offered, in the

  guise of true Sidhe. Emerald green eyes overwhelmed a subtly altered face, slightly more

  symmetrical, high cheek bones and determined jaw appeared more defined. Burgundy hair

  fell in glossy curls below her waist, interspersed with twists of gleaming gold. Faint flecks of

  silver and gold glowed on skin covering curves more rounded than Cat was used to. If she

  hadn’t caught a glimpse of her altered state in the truth pool, she would have fainted from

  the shock. Grandma Shayla in her true form epitomised regal grace and ethereal beauty.

  Iscatya was in your face rock chick and blatantly sensual.

  Cat saw her reflection as another self, a dual personality. She had lived with a bland human

  face for too long, to be comfortable in a new skin. With a shudder she shimmered back to a

  familiar form. Yep… It would be bad news to set Iscatya free to seduce Drusal.

  Cat wouldn’t stand a snowballs chance in hell...

  CHAPTER SIX

  Reluctant to face Drusal with the image of her alter ego burned into her retinas, Cat stripped

  the bed, holding the linen to her face she inhaled the faint trace of vanilla, remembered the

  taste of his kiss. Saddened by the realisation he would never truly be hers, a single tear slid

  down her cheek at the false promise, of what could have been a magical ride into sheer bliss.

  Whatever path their bond took, it would serve to be only a partnership of convenience.

  Gathering together the flower smeared bedding and damp towels, she tramped back into the

  kitchen in a seriously foul mood. She had a lot to offer a mate, if only he could see past a less

  than lovely human visage. Taking out her temper on the kitchen appliances, she slammed shut

  the washing machine door, rattled pots and pans in the sink. None of it relieved the useless

  melt down of her common sense. She had vowed to stay single and independent, to use men

  for their entertainment value, then place them firmly out of reach. A huge Sidhe warrior with

  no thought but to use her to bring sanity back to the Sovereign Court, had shaken that resolve,

  had her nearly begging him to kiss her again. What a pathetic excuse for a Princess of royal

  blood. She had to back off, play it cool, wait for him to see sense and leave her in peace.

  “More likely in pieces…” Cat growled huskily to herself.

  “Iscatya are you angry with me?” Drusal lounged against the French windows a dark frown

  marring the perfection of his brow. He had moved so silently Cat had been caught muttering

  to herself, unaware of his approach upon a scene of domestic carnage. Damn it…

  Caught in the act of becoming a total fruit loop…. Wiping soapy hands on the kitchen towel

  she turned slowly to face the cause of mental breakdown. “No… I’m angry at myself.”

  Throwing her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender Cat managed a half-hearted grin.

  “I feel like I’m taking two steps forward and three steps back. The concerns you have for the

  nobles of the Court, aren’t mine. I mean, I do share your concern, but other than you and a

  Grandmother I have never met, I have no connection, no feelings for these people.”

  She hastily corrected an inadvertent slip of the tongue. “Sidhe…”

  “Aye, your introduction to the world of your birth was a shade dramatic. You have little

  cause to take the steps needed to secure a tenure to the royal throne.” Drusal offered her

  a lop-sided smile as he closed the distance between them in two long strides. He caught at

  her hand before it impacted on his cheek. “Dramatic…” Cat snarled at him.

  “That’s the understatement of the century. Lord Vardon, either you offer me a solid reason

  why I should help you, or take your sorry ass home to the Queen.” Icily calm in his grasp she

  stared pointedly at the long fingers locked around her wrist.

  Instead of releasing her, Drusal slipped his fingers between hers brushing at the mark he had

  made with the pad of his thumb. “I would tell you of my brothers if it pleases thee…”

  Head dipped slightly he ran a finger along the smooth line of her jaw, a deliciously tactile

  caress, that made her want to purr.

  “My wish is to please thee in all things.” Drusal watched emerald flames flicker in her eyes.

  He knew he had pushed the boundaries beyond what was decent and fair, Iscatya had every

  right to be angry with him. At this moment he wanted above all to know the female, to

  befriend her. He could not undo the manner of their meeting, but he could at least prove that

  he was worthy to be considered as a mate. Lifting her hand to his mouth he laid a kiss on her

  palm. The skin glowed with the faintest hint of green where his lips touched bare flesh.

  Intrigued by the instant response to his earth element, Drusal ran a long trail down her arm,

  watching the earthy glow that followed his path. She intrigued him, held his attention as no

  other female had for centuries. He and the witch were connected on the most basic level,

  element to element.

  “All the, thee’s and thou’s in the world won’t solve our trust issues Lord Vardon. I don’t trust

  you as far as I could throw you, which is zilch, zero, so not going to happen.” Cat disengaged

  her fingers from a warm hand, stepping back from an overwhelming presence.

  “I’m prepared to listen to any history of the Court that will help me understand why I should

  offer my life to a species that holds humans in contempt.” Cat had seen and felt the shift of

  colours beneath her skin, was as fascinated by the evidence of a connection as he was, but

  chose to ignore the sign of bonding.

  “I’m a free agent Drusal. No amount of pressure you bring to bear will change my mind,

  unless I feel you are in earnest, not just clouding my empathy with visions of torture to gain

  the result you want.” Stepping past him Cat strode out onto the patio to sink onto a deeply

  cushioned sun-lounger, very much like a Queen ascending her throne.

  “Come on Lord Vardon… Make me believe in you.” Husky tones held disbelief, a denial of

  his willingness to reveal the absolute truth.

  Drusal was knocked back for a second. The power she held to reject his advances consumed

  him. He wanted that power to be his to use, to be the only male to breach her cold barriers.

  The hound in him never backed down from a battle of wills. Bringing the Court to life for her

  delectation wasted precious time. Time that could be used to sharpen Iscatya’s fighting skills,

  not pander to a shrewish temperament. Stilling an infantile tantrum, was a resource he had

  never had need of. To have the aid of a female of the Royal line was a necessity that could

  not be avoided. Therefore, he would cool his own temper to enlighten the witch of the life

  sapping energy the Queen of Withins Underhill employed to contain the males of the Court.

  Sitting cross legged on the deck, close to her side Drusal was accosted by an icy wash of

  disdain emanating from the body of a fragile female in human form.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, leaning on one elbow, he rested his chin on his hand.

  “Iscatya, I can tell no falsehoods… All I ask is for you to listen before condemning the Court

  to an eternity of hell.” Eyes narrowed he watched Cat wriggle into the cushions of the sun

  lounger, head turned away from him.

  “Go for it Fur ball… I’m all ears.” Her voice was coldly uncompromising, a ch
ill whisper of

  reluctant longing to know more of her kind.

  “I am no Bard. I will but do my best.” His growl settled directly in the pit of her stomach,

  re-igniting a fire she had tried hard to extinguish.

  Laying on his back hands tucked behind his head, Drusal wove a tale that filtered directly

  into her mind. Told of the warm glow of friendship and brotherhood fostered in the battle

  to save the Sovereign realm from ravenous vampires. His brothers were not of the blood,

  but of the blade, a mighty link forged in adversity and hardship.

  That link had sustained their sanity as the Queen’s depravity increased. The brothers were

  all shape-shifters. The animal of individual alter egos excited a lust in Istirina, assuaged only

  in her bed. Over time she tamed over half his kin, two held out, the Hound and a gentle Bard.

  The Bard was tortured for eons, until he resembled a shell of the warrior he once was, but still

  he held his body aloof. The Hound had skills the Queen had need of, a stalemate was reached.

  She sought to breach the ties of the brotherhood, using any means to destroy a solidly forged

  connection, formed to aid her in time of war. As he brought to mind each warrior, the image

  became real, a depiction of grace and beauty in her head, a bevy of strong males with the

  marks of desperation on the strong lines of their faces. “You love them…”

  Cat whispered hoarsely, astounded that Drusal had the capacity to love after the scenes she

  had been witness to.

  “Aye, though they have no love for me.” The bitter edge of pain came out in a harsh snarl.

  “I betrayed the brotherhood, the day I became the Queen’s Dark Hound. The choice I made to

  preserve my body, drove a final wedge between us. This is why I need your aid. They would

  not lift one finger to save me, even as I wish to save them. For a Royal female of The Lord

  Teyrnon’s noble and gentle line, I believe they would embrace the chance of freedom with

  swords and mighty hearts.”