by Marata Eros
Praise for The Druid Series....
"...Marata breathes the angst back into a subject I so love. Alpha males so dominate that as read I want to lower my head in submission, showing my neck in obedience. For some this book will shock, though I know very little to be taboo, I will applaud this author for riding that line... "-leesgrl
".... I never thought I would read this type of book but I read Ms. Eros "A Terrible Love" romance novel and loved it so I started on the Druid/Breeder series and am hooked!! This series is very steamy and I love the story lines with the mysterious and handsome hunka hunka vampires!!" -Annie B. "love books"
".... I truly enjoy this series. Each one draws you in farther and farther making it harder and harder to put down. You come to love and root for characters you thought of as "the bad vampires"...all I can say is ENJOY!!!" -Ethel Staats
THE DRUID SERIES 9: Baird
A Novel
Copyright © 2014 Marata Eros
Kindle Edition
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Edited by Red Adept
Siana has disappeared. As an Exotic and a Druid warrior queen, she is not beholden to the magick call of sex slavery as are the Druid witches of her upbringing. She does not realize that as she runs, Baird and Kael follow with opposing agendas.
Now that Jessamine is within the subjugation of the undead, the Druid females will be ruled by the fair hand of Imogen and her Reaper Kings, Carrig and Quinn. When a gathering of remaining Druid priests come against the new kingdom, the Reapers find their numbers too few to protect the stronghold.
Altho and the gifted Druid female Seraphina cannot reconcile the inception of their relationship, and her promise to be his.
Can Siana obtain the freedom she wishes and the love she denies? Will the new kingdom of Reapers succeed in the protection of their Druid females? Do Altho and Maghnus hold the key to revolutionizing the power structure of both Druid and Reaper?
Dedication:
My Druid Fans, who can never say “no” to the next slice of dark....
You're in good company; I can't either~
Music that inspired me during the writing of BAIRD....
Dark Horse
Katy Perry
Table of Contents
Praise for The Druid Series.... 1
Dedication: 4
CHAPTER ONE 7
CHAPTER TWO 11
CHAPTER THREE 16
CHAPTER FOUR 20
CHAPTER FIVE 24
CHAPTER SIX 28
CHAPTER SEVEN 32
CHAPTER EIGHT 36
CHAPTER NINE 40
CHAPTER TEN 44
CHAPTER ELEVEN 48
CHAPTER TWELVE 53
CHAPTER THIRTEEN 57
CHAPTER FOURTEEN 62
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 67
CHAPTER SIXTEEN 72
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 76
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 80
CHAPTER NINETEEN 85
CHAPTER TWENTY 89
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 93
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 96
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 101
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 106
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 111
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 115
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 119
Acknowledgments 169
More Books by Marata Eros: 170
Books written under my real name, Tamara Rose Blodgett: 172
CHAPTER ONE
Siana
Siana ignores the branches reaching for her like seeking fingers. The oak sings, kissing the magick present within. Hot sadness races down her face as her night vision allows her to barely graze the trees instead of wrap them.
Siana's breaths come in deep, rasping inhales. She presses herself onward to escape.
Kael and Baird will not follow. There is too much sun. Even now, it strikes her flesh, leaving her bare to the rays.
It doesn't matter. She is a Druid vampire and an Exotic. The combination negates the sun’s danger. Essentially, Siana is a daywalker.
Her confusion is profound, her sadness worse. Baird believes she is whore to anyone who will have her. Kael only wants her for her blood.
Not for consumption, but because of the rare Exotic blood they share. A Druid queen would lift the status of the rogues.
Siana agreed to be queen, to mate and breed with another of Exotic blood. She did not agree to the tug-of-war that has been waged all around her. Even now, her father, the king of Exotics from the south, is moving to seek his one true mate, Lucia.
His absence leaves her alone.
Siana slows, resting her palms on her knees. Breeches stick to her thighs like a second skin as sweat chills against her.
The Druid temple rises up before her, the moat moving in sluggish revolution around an island holding the stone building. The temple looms against the stark wall of trees at its back.
As she stares, dawn deepens into day over the treetops. Siana takes a moment to swipe her tears, the wood her only audience.
She breathes deeply and crouches. Her soft-soled shoes bite into the forest floor. With vampiric speed, Siana leaps into the air as her legs pump, kicking up needles, moss, and dirt.
She lands expertly, her palms kissing the earth for balance.
Siana moves to the nine foot arched door and throws it open.
That bitch Jessamine never even locked it.
Of course, that is the least of Siana's worries. Her former mentor and fellow Druid witch is currently busy. The attention of her undead consorts should keep her very distracted. Siana feels no joy at the thought of Jessamine's new life, a life shaped by her choices.
Because of Jessamine, Seraphina is the Druid prize of Altho, a rare male Druid witch.
Siana shivers at the memory of his face, scarred from goddess knows what.
The Druid females are scattered like the leaves Siana just ran through. The temple is barren without them, like an unfertilized womb.
Siana sucks in her lip and presses forward. Birdsong and sunlight pierce through the small windows high on the walls. The thick glass portals allow light without view, and Siana gradually relaxes. Her tension from the night before recedes, and she straightens. She moves boldly down the hall, confident she is alone in the former Druid temple.
Imogen's quarters are how she left them: neat.
The looking glass reflects Siana's image. Long tangled curls of golden brown riot around her. Gold eyes flash with green flecks.
Her clothes are covered with the rot of the undead.
The blood of the Faction.
Siana's eyelashes flutter against her filthy cheeks. She strips off her breeches and linen tunic, kicking them in a pile. She moves to the bathroom. The chill of the morning skates across her skin, lifting gooseflesh like a breath of ice against her flesh.
The large copper tub sits empty. The old pipes groan as they transfer hot water from the underground spring, and the water slaps inside the basin, steaming.
Siana floats her fingers on th
e surface as it rises. She catches sight of the glass jar of lavender crystals and scoops some out, dumping them underneath the rush of water from the spigot. Lavender infuses the air, calming her.
She puts a toe inside the tub and slowly sinks into the bath, groaning in pleasure. Siana lathers her hair with sweet-scented shavings, foamy and replete with vanilla, jasmine, and rose. Two washings are barely enough to remove the grime she picked up in her escape.
Time passes. Pie wedges of light travel across the tumbled stone, brightening patches to a soft gray and leaving the rest in shadow.
Siana's eyes snap open.
She had fallen asleep.
Twilight has descended, and creatures of night will be out soon.
Kael and Baird. Siana doesn't want either one. Baird doesn't believe her—in her. Kael sees her as the Exotic feather in his cap.
Time to go.
Her gaze finds the portals of thick glass. Pale light succumbs to night as she watches.
She hears a small scratching noise at her left, near the door.
Then the smell assails her.
Siana stands, rivulets of water cascading down her naked body, joining the cold water in the tub.
Rotting eyes meet hers.
Siana gasps.
The zombie hisses.
Her hand slaps the rim of the tub, her legs clearing it at the same moment.
She recites a spell against trespassers of the dead as she slides along the slick stones of the bathroom floor.
The undead follow like scuttling crabs.
Siana's nostrils flare, scenting more than five.
Did they follow her?
No.
These are not the shambling undead who were re-animated under Altho's tender care. His black magick.
These are a different brand of zombie.
Flesh-eaters.
She runs, chancing a glance behind her.
One is inches from touching her, and she screams reactively.
They are fast, not the sloths of legend.
This one scuttles along the wall, defying gravity to run parallel with her.
The sound of her feet hitting the stone floor is all there is.
“See-ann-a,” it hisses.
The sound of her name coming off its tongue like a serpent's kiss almost makes her stumble.
They should not know her.
They should not be this fast.
A window stands at the end of the corridor. Tall and narrow, it is bisected with diamond-shaped leaded webbing.
Siana aims for it like a diver.
The balls of her feet are the only things touching the ground. A horrible slithering hiss sounds at her back.
Something passes through her hair.
A hand.
Siana whimpers, crashing through the window. Talons burst out of her fingertips as she slams through the glass.
The leading wraps around her body.
The last seconds of her life blink at her.
Zombies crawl out of the moat, moving toward the entrance of the Druid temple.
Siana hurtles to the ground.
She bats the lead caning from the broken window away at the last second, her skin a sliced disaster.
Siana rights herself and aims for two zombies underneath her.
Her feet pass through one's head. Its brains strike the one beside it, and he licks it off his face.
Siana screams, rolling off the zombie.
Her foot is stuck in its skull, and her scream has caught the attention of the horde.
Then she realizes who they are, why the one knew her.
They are the Druid priests who captured her.
Brought back to life.
*
Siana flips over, jerking her foot backwards in an attempt to escape the clutches of the priests brain cavity. Her foot comes away with a sucking pop, and she gasps in a sob as she scrambles away.
If she had clothes, she would never escape.
Their hands slide off her naked skin, and trails of rot cover her like slug slime.
She wails.
I cannot die like this. No weapons and naked. Beaten, eaten, and raped by the undead Druid priests.
They did not have her when they were alive, and they will not have her now.
But her spell does not work.
Siana runs.
They follow.
CHAPTER TWO
Baird
“Dammit!” Baird says.
“Yes... that, my large fool,” Kael says.
Baird feels his hands become fists. “If you do not cease and desist, I shall beat you again.”
Kael shrugs. “Go ahead, you repugnant lout. Meanwhile, Siana has made herself scarce for the express purpose of avoiding you. Smart.” He taps his temple, his other eye swollen so much he can't use it.
It cause Baird to grin.
The peckerwood.
“This is not helpful,” Imogen says.
Baird sighs, looking between the five. Carrig and Quinn fold their arms like twins.
Quinn steps forward. “It has been an eventful night.”
Baird rolls his eyes. Yes, very.
“Do not pull that face, my Reaper friend,” Carrig says. “We have suffered because of a corrupt promise by a Druid witch who even now receives the lascivious attentions of our cousins. We barely escaped the Faction, the Druid queen has gone missing, and a Druid female has given herself up as willing sacrifice for our sakes. Yet you muddle around worried about blame.” Carrig sighs. “You must grow, or you can never have a chance with Siana.”
Baird sighs, scrubbing his head. He looks at Kael, who smirks. Air bursts out of Baird in an angry exhale, but he attempts to keep his emotions in check.
Kael cocks an inky black eyebrow. “When did you become so wise, old friend?”
Carrig grins. “When your life hangs in the balance, it is an easy thing to muster. And”—he lifts a finger—“a wise Reaper once told me that which was most important.”
He cups the back of Imogen's head and says quietly, “Life.”
The first rays of dawn burst over the trees, spearing the open field where they stand.
Carrig and Quinn hiss, backing up into the shadows.
Kael, Baird, and Imogen follow them into the shade cast by the two-hundred-year-old oak trees.
“Imogen is with child?” Baird asks.
Carrig nods once. “She is.”
“Excellent,” Kael says. “However...”
Baird swings his face toward the rogue, who is part Exotic.
“Siana is out there alone. She needs protection.”
“She does not,” Imogen says, lifting her chin. “Siana has never needed anyone.” Pale hair floats around her face, and the gray of her eyes deepens with her conviction.
Baird's brow cinches.
“We must go to ground,” his comrades intone simultaneously.
Baird looks at Carrig and Quinn. Neither have sufficient Druid ancestry, or the rarer blood of the Exotic, to allow them to shadow jump. They must entirely avoid the sun.
“Yes.” Baird meets their eyes. “Go and be well.”
Baird walks to them, for the sun is dappled jigsaw pieces where he stands. He embraces them, and they stand in a huddle.
“Be of a care, Baird,” Quinn says, his eyes on Kael.
Watch that prick rogue.
Baird receives his brother's missive loud and clear.
Kael chuckles behind Baird, also aware of the veiled message.
Baird ignores Kael and claps his hands on Carrig's shoulders, giving a caress to Imogen's cheekbone.
She snaps her face away then leans forward, anger stark on her features. “Repair this rift with Siana.”
Baird ducks his head. When he lifts his head to reply, they are gone.
“Now can we depart?” Kael asks.
Baird slowly turns. “What force of goddess's nature makes you believe we shall travel together?”
Kael blurs to him, and Baird is ready, catc
hing him by his grimy, torn clothing.
“You wish to keep me in your sights, yes?” Kael asks.
Their noses nearly touching, Baird gives the slightest nod of his head. “Yes.”
Kael tosses up his hands. “Well then, our objective is the same. We wish to see Siana safe.”
Baird tosses Kael into the shadows, and Kael stumbles to right himself.
“You wish to fuck her, friend,” Baird spits.
Kael nods. “Aye.”
Baird grunts.
“As do you.”
Baird cannot argue the point. He folds his arms, tilting his chin. “What do you propose?”
Kael shrugs. “If you can keep your mitts off me for a time, we might actually be able to reason with the lass.”
Baird makes a noise of disbelief.
“You have no better ideas.” Kael’s voice deepens to Baird’s gravel-like tones. “You're all full of wrath and anger.” His voice slides back to his own modulation. “You have assumptions and only enough intellect to fuel the two feet in front of you.”
Baird moves to him.
Kael puts up a palm. “I do not wish to fight. I wish to do things smarter, not harder. The path must not always be a difficult one—it must always be the smartest.”
“Fine,” Baird seethes. “You be the brains. When things go badly, I will use my fists and weapons.”
Kael inclines his head and winces. Baird grins.
Kael scowls at Baird's joy of causing the bruises and wounds that grace Kael’s form. “Let us leave this place.”
Baird turns to go, enjoying needling Kael.
They run, using the shadows as cover. Twice they must rest and feed on a vagabond. Unfortunately, the smolder of their skin follows them like a vapor.
Eventually Kael leans against a deeply tunneled tree trunk, gasping. “I cannot keep this pace.”
Baird feels no better. They are not immune to the effects of the sun, only tolerant.
He knows Siana escapes this fatigue because she simply has purer blood.
Baird hates agreeing with Kael. “You are right. We must rest. An hour, maybe more.”