Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1)

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Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1) Page 26

by Catherine Fitzpatrick


  “There’s no sanitation, and my damn phone won’t work…” Alex was miffed that she had

  been abandoned for hours, with no contact with the outside world.

  “No wi-fi in paradise angel.” Cat hugged her sister, tempting a smile from lips now bare

  of any sign of lipstick.

  “No shit Sherlock… I had to bribe the Bard with music to get writing materials off him.”

  Lazy violet eyes opened slowly at the mention of his name, lips humming a familiar tune,

  Pharelle Williams’ Happy, his gaze swivelled to lock onto Alex. “Aingeal…”

  The murmur was faint, but Cat caught the fascinated expression in violet eyes as he gazed

  at her friend through narrowed eyes. Arms locked behind his head, a long length lay

  positioned halfway between Alex and his brother warriors.

  A shout went up as Turi began to carve the boar for a further round of delicious meat,

  offering a platter to Cat and her mate. Accepting the basic meal with a wide grin, Drusal

  called for their attention as his mate unloaded salads and cold wine to accompany the

  tender meat, served on huge green leaves.

  “Did you sense any sign of dangerous predators on your hunting forays?” The question

  elicited a loud belly laugh from Turi as he dropped to sit with Kynthelig, nudging a brother

  in the ribs. “None but us Lord Vardon… None but us….” Laughter erupted at an attempt

  at mirth that had seldom seen use.

  Cat felt privileged to belong at last to the people of her birth, her heart had found peace.

  Her curiosity was alive and well, ready to ask a question that had been on the tip of her

  tongue since the day she had drooled over the lusciously naked body of her mate.

  “Fur ball…?” Her voice was loud enough for all to hear.

  “Mmmm….” Drusal murmured round a bite of delicious boar meat. He recognised the signs

  of questioning that would lead to a subject he was not going to be happy with.

  “I’m curious as to why you always strip naked before you shift, no-one else does? Or at

  Least Jarl doesn’t…” She chuckled wickedly as he choked on his food.

  Wiping the grease from his mouth, Drusal actually blushed, a slightly off green shade of pink

  that didn’t suit his complexion.

  “I dislike the feeling of constraint….” A roar of laughter filled the night sky with the sounds

  of complacent revelry.

  “Exhibitionist more like…” Cat chortled back, hugging at the arm around her waist.

  Would you like to see more? The shaft of mental teasing made Cat blush in turn.

  “Iscatya…?” Turi wafted a huge gnawed bone in her direction.

  “I would ask…? To what hell did you banish Dardanos with his ill-favoured ilk?”

  A chorus of curiosity greeted his words.

  “I draped them in iron chains, throughout Istirina’s private rooms…”

  Silence fell for a second as the warriors considered her actions. Another bellow of

  laughter followed her confession.

  “A lenient sentence for the Torturer…” Drusal grinned, white teeth gleaming in the glow

  of the bonfire.

  “I know, but think of the fun they’ll have, removing the stink from Istirina’s chambers as

  she cracks the whip.” Rainbow eyes flashing, Cat couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised

  expressions on the faces of noble warriors.

  “To do such a thing proves thy sadistic streak runs deep.” Drusal rocked her with his

  laughter.

  “I know… But at least all I have ever done is cause a mess.” She sobered suddenly, taking

  in the radiance of beautiful faces in the fading glow of hot coals, uncertainty in a hushed

  voice. “Do you believe we can make this all work, without messing it up?”

  Drusal lay a kiss upon her neck, whispering in her ear.

  “Lady Vardon thy hands have messed with my heart, and still I survive.” A slow delighted

  smile curved across her mouth at his words.

  “Do you know how much I love you…?” Cat whispered back.

  “I have an inkling of sorts.” He growled low against her neck. “I expect my female to spend

  all eternity showing me how much she loves me.” Moulding her shoulders into the wide

  chest at her back, Cat sighed happily. “I can do that….”

  Drusal’s hope of extended satisfaction was short lived, he sensed the ‘but’ hovering in an

  unfinished sentence. “But not yet?” Arm clamped around a waistline that would in time

  expand with his young, a possessive male felt the first stirrings of jealousy, an intensely

  fearful need to cage his mate in a protective embrace and never let go.

  “No, not until I’ve spoken to Phillipe…” Cat waited for a blast of rage. Relief came with a

  grunt of distaste in her ear. A firm chin resting on a wealth of burgundy hair, long fingers

  stroked her belly in a tender caress of proud parenthood.

  “Leave the vampire to deal with its kin, it is no more than a monster deserves…”

  He wasn’t going to let her return to a scene of horror and loss without a fight.

  “He… Phillipe is a man, not, a sexless it… And, he doesn’t deserve to be abandoned, to

  be discarded like unwanted garbage. Teyrnon entrusted me with the care of his subjects,

  I can’t ignore that responsibility, as much as I want to…”

  Oblivious to a celebration of joyous freedom, deaf to the booming laughter of boisterous

  males bent on releasing the tension and degradation of eons of slavery at the hands of her

  Grandmother, Cat sought to calm the erratic beat of a strong heart at her back. She had to

  lay the ghosts to rest, had to face a man who had stolen years of her life.

  The prospect of walking back into the hell of recent pain made her shiver, a trembling that

  coated her mate’s skin with the scent of fear.

  “You would do this now…?” Drusal wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, to make

  love to his female until she was too exhausted to contemplate leaving that bed, let alone

  transporting to a dangerous dimension.

  “It’s not like the optical practice. It’s a realm, a nation of subdued vampires who have lost

  a figurehead. I can’t just lock the doors for the night, and forget about business until the

  next working day. Their lives have been radically altered, a source of sustenance they have

  relied upon for centuries, removed completely in a matter of hours. Between us, Phillipe

  and I will have to secure nourishment for a depleted populace, set finances in place to aid

  survival. Alex stripped every bank account Phillipe kept in my name to ensure the same

  survival and salvation for the Sidhe. Are Teyrnon’s children any less worthy? Please take the

  time to consider the fact, I am now one of those children… Redress has to be made, help

  offered, whether I want to or not. I know you don’t give a damn if they live or die, but I do,

  I have to as a guardian of justice, a protector of the oppressed. It is my duty as Mistress

  of the Dark dimension and a Sister of the Fates to do all I can to ensure my subjects have

  a chance to readjust, to find a way for them to thrive in a modern world.” It wasn’t a choice

  but a duty of care, the same one that applied to health professionals in the human sphere.

  The health of a decimated nation depended on a new figurehead, one who just wanted to

  bury her head in the sand like an Ostrich, and ignore the weight of sovereignty on small

  inadequate shoulders. Not a snowball’s chance in hell�
��

  The sooner some sort of plan was set in place to succour the shattered lives of God knows

  how many vampires, the sooner she could enjoy Edanholme and her mate’s undivided and

  gloriously sensual attentions.

  “I cannot argue with thy reasoning…” Another ‘but’ waited to pounce. A husky murmur

  rumbled in Drusal’s throat. Unlike her Grandmother, this Queen would never shirk her

  responsibilities, would never intentionally cause harm to another being.

  “I will accompany thee…” As Consort to the ruler of two disparate realms, a measure of

  the tediousness of governing would fall to him. There was no time like the present to

  establish the willing acceptance of a partner in life, to take the rough with the smooth.

  A soft gurgle of laughter shook the luscious curves in his arms, a delightfully infectious

  sound of real mirth.

  “No way Fur ball…” Turning in his arms, rainbow hued eyes held laughter and regret

  in equal measure. “God knows how many poor vampires you injured? Or, in fact,

  removed from this plain of existence in a rampage of blood thirsty proportions. It may

  not be the most tactful way for me to return, accompanied by a vengeful warrior of

  the Sidhe.” Cupping his face in both hands, Cat willed him to back down, to let her do

  this alone.

  “I do not do tactful…” A wide grin spread across a stunning face, a fiercely bright flash

  of white teeth, the amber glow of latent wolf in distrusting eyes.

  “No kidding… Ok, let me have the truth. No evasion, no playing with words, just give

  me complete, absolute honesty. You don’t want me to go alone because you don’t trust

  me with Phillipe, anxious that I might find him a more acceptable mate for a vampire?

  Or, are you afraid the remnants of a terrorised population might mutiny, and tear their

  new mistress apart, out of a fit of pique?” Questioning the motive at the need for him

  to hover at her back, in a vibrant whisper, love and compassion shone in emerald eyes

  as she placed a soft kiss on generous lips.

  “Both…” It was an honest answer, and all she was going to get.

  “Fine Fur ball… But, just remember, I am yours, you are mine. I will never disavow you.

  I might be tempted to slap some sense into a thick skull once in a while…” A ripple of

  laughter washed his face with summer fruits and the taste of crisp fresh air.

  “I love you… If you believe for one minute I would ever chose another mate, then you

  are missing some seriously important brain cells.” Kneeling between heavily muscled

  thighs, a female in love glowed softly in all the colours of the rainbow.

  A gentle snore interrupted a moment of solid commitment. Alex lay curled up in a ball,

  tote bag clutched to her chest, out for the count. A solemn male with beautiful violet eyes

  stretched out on his side, gaze fixed on a cute bundle of sleeping humanity.

  Hands braced on broad shoulders, Cat eased to her feet. A gentle smile on her face she

  hooked her fingers under one arm of her best friend.

  “Come on angel, let’s get you to bed. I’ll cover for you tomorrow…” It was time to go back

  to work, to face the rampant curiosity of her employees.

  “You sure…?” A slurred voice and misty eyes, the evidence of nervous exhaustion, a weary

  human tottered up the steps of the nearest cabin, with the help of the Faerie Queen of a

  recently established Court. “Yep… No problem.” Manoeuvring a body disconnected from

  an over-active brain, into a basic wooden cot, Cat made sure she was comfortable under a

  downy cover before resuming a private argument.

  “I will stand guard over thy sister…” A raspy voice offered the body guarding services of a

  Sidhe warrior, a promise of total acceptance to a new regime in musical tones.

  “Thank you Lord Teague…” She had a feeling Alex’s life was going to become a lot more

  interesting in the next few days.

  Arm wrapped round Drusal’s leather clad waist, his arm lying warmly on her shoulders,

  they strolled towards the portal in a comfortable silence. It would be simpler to just

  translocate, but Cat wanted to spend a few more minutes in paradise with her mate.

  Bathed in alien moonlight, beyond the perimeter of a noisy encampment, she slid both

  arms up and round a wide neck, leaning back to search a hardened face with clouded

  emerald eyes. “Do I have to ask for a kiss…?” She whispered softly, a mischievous grin

  twitching at pouting lips.

  “Of course not Smart-arse… You have to beg.” The Lord Vardon wasn’t in the best of

  moods. His wolf simmered beneath green hued skin, ready and willing to rend the limbs

  from the remaining vampires in a wasted land.

  “I don’t do begging. It’s far too demeaning for a Queen…” A frown forming a V between

  arched eyebrows, a female on the brittle edge of a petulant strop, curled her nose in grim

  forbearance instead. Drusal’s tone may be bantering, though his aura seethed in the red gold swirls

  of frustrated anger. There was no relenting in tensed muscle, or a rigid stance.

  “I’m not going to argue with you anymore, Lord Vardon of the Green Hills. This is my life

  now and forever. I wear three different hats, Optometrist to humans, Queen to Sidhe and

  Mistress to vampires. Accept it, or disavow me… That’s the one choice you have.”

  Enough was enough, she’d made a decision. Nothing he could do or say, would undo it.

  Unlocking little hands from his neck, Drusal stepped back to offer her a deep mocking bow.

  “As you wish my Queen…” With a dark growl, a warrior of the Sidhe stood to attention,

  waiting for a strong willed witch to soften, to fling herself into his arms.

  “Grow up Fur ball…” Cat hissed at him through lowered fangs, the incandescent shimmer

  of translocation a vivid counterpoint to moon washed meadows.

  She wasn’t going to give in to moody manipulation. If she capitulated even once, male

  dominance and possessiveness would swamp free will.

  Bugger that for a game of soldiers… She was well equipped to protect her own skin, the

  Dark dimension held no terrors, but the ones she’d already faced.

  Drusal swore, repeatedly, with vehemence. To watch his female slip away without the

  chance to resolve their differences, filled him with dread. A parting remark rankled, lashing

  at a wounded ego, knocking a supreme noble off a proud perch. Iscatya had nailed him with

  the truth. His behaviour had been no better than that of a pathetic sapling in the first rush

  of hormonal urges. In his defence, a marked mate and love bound male had a lot to lose.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Cat materialised on a gruesome plain, under the murky cloud cover of eternal twilight, to

  face a monstrosity of a building surrounded by high walls. When Drusal had come to her

  rescue, she had been too immersed in pain and the loss of an unknown grandfather to take

  in the view. It was downright depressing. A vista of craggy mountains and dust choked air,

  with not even one redeeming feature.

  Sensing the stealthy approach of a multitude of beings, auras as grey as the pumice beneath

  her feet, she called forth the Swords of Justice. Brands glowing silver, twin blades blazing

  crystal blue, a sister of the Fates built a hasty barrier of force in a full sphere to hold back the

  black swirling mists of emerging vampires. There
were more survivors of a lone wolf war

  than she had ever expected to see. Pale faces crowded her vision, both male and female.

  Bland acceptance of a new ruler of a hated nation dropped them to bended knee, to encircle

  an isolated figure in massed ranks. Heads bent in reverence at a vision of blinding beauty, a

  concerted sigh smote her heart with the ache of compassion and empathy for loss of a

  former, more primal lifestyle.

  “I have to say Iscatya… In your true form, you are simply gorgeous.” The lazy drawl of the

  Prince Regent reached Cat’s ears before a long limbed, sleekly muscled vampire strode into

  view. He was stunningly handsome, midnight dark eyes and blue black waves of glossy hair

  emphasised the luminosity of perfectly smooth skin. The faint shadow of stubble on cheeks

  and jaw framed firm lips, a deliciously kissable mouth. Cat knew how kissable he was, she’d

  been there, done that, worn the t-shirt. So not interested in going there again…

  However handsome a former lover was, Drusal had taken her heart and made it his.

  “The swords add a nice touch. Impressive, but a little ostentatious…” A deep belly laugh

  served to dispel a faint air of menace clinging to a throng of kneeling creatures, a faintly

  ritualistic scene of worship. She may be a living deity, but blind obeisance didn’t sit well on

  the shoulders of a thoroughly grounded female.

  As one they rose, to bow in unison, before dispersing in a cloying fog of dense black.

  “Relax Cat, no one’s going to hurt you. Indeed, I doubt anyone could…” Phillipe felt the

  trickle of cold sweat along his spine. This magnificent child of the Sidhe he had actually

  dared to feed upon. If he had any inkling of the power intrinsic to the might of Sidhe

  royalty, he would have run, and probably still be running.

  Dispelling the matrix of a formidable shield of force, ice crystals glittered momentarily, as

  wisps of flame melted them neatly, to leech away into parched soil. The musical thrum of

 

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