Wulf's Redemption (Borne Vampires Book 3)

by W. M. Petzler

  As he swung off the tall gelding he rode, Herrick explained, “Ordered we were to aid your escape.”

  “By who?”

  “I am sworn to secrecy, my lords.”

  Exchanging a frown with Aldric, he shrugged it off. “Whoever our benefactor is, God bless him!” Alex grinned, grabbing his friend in a bear hug, “Herrick, I am damn glad to see you! I worried the Slayer had killed you.”

  “He was more interested in chasing after you than wasting his time on us.”

  “How did you come by our horses?”

  Releasing him, Herrick shrugged. “My mother, a powerful witch, was told by the spirits that Ulrich was sending his mercenaries to raid our camp and murder us. I sent our families away, our cousins volunteered to see you safely away. My brothers and I took Ulrich’s fine horses as compensation for his betraying us.” Herrick patted the arched neck of the magnificent Friesian, who snorted in agreement. “Hurry, my lords, we need to place distance between us and Wulf Manor. We’ve only an hour before the sun rises.”

  He and Aldric held out their hands to have their shackles removed when a shadow passed overhead. Herrick and his men reached for their guns. Alex knew who it was.

  “Someone get these damn things off me!” Herrick fumbled with the key, trying several attempts to insert it in the shackle lock.

  A mocking laugh echoed around them. “Little vampyre, you let a mortal rescue you a second time? For shame, no wonder your father wants you dead. Pathetic you are.”

  “Hell with this.” Alex pulled his hands apart, breaking the chains binding him. The iron bracelets rolled around on his wrists as he yelled, “Get out of here! Aldric, ride with them!”

  “Alex, n—” Aldric stiffened.

  In a moment’s frozen time, he saw Aldric’s sorrow, his regrets, and lastly a single tear traced down his cheek as eyes of emerald closed as the blade flashed, cutting off his head. Slowly, his body crumpled into the snow. Crimson stained the pristine white. Lifting his gaze, he found the Slayer standing over Aldric’s body.

  “Well, call me astonished,” the Slayer chortled, “he wasn’t Damned after all. Not that I or your father really care. A Borne Law had been broken. You are hereby condemned to join your brother in eternal rest.” Lifting his bloodied blade, the Slayer advanced.

  Alex’s throat burned. The white-hot slash of the sword, the vanishing of his brother’s soul, their lifetime connection as twins had ended. Alone forever. Fury rose hot and hatred flared from the deepest depths of his grief. Roaring, he leapt in the air and came back down, striking the Slayer’s face over and over with the broken ends of the chains connected to his shackles. The sword flew out the Slayer’s hand and landed, standing hilt upright in the nearby snow bank. The Slayer struck Alex hard, the force sent him flying backward. On his feet in a flash, he grabbed the brute’s head, twisting it to expose the Slayer’s throat and sank his teeth deep in the soft flesh exposed. Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he drank it, seeking to drain the Slayer dry. Hands feebly fought make him let go. Hearing the Slayer’s heart barely beating, he withdrew his fangs and extended his fingers into claws. With a deadly swipe, he ripped the bastard’s throat out. Slowly, the Slayer sank to his knees, holding his throat as blood gushed out the wounds. Alex reached for the Slayer’s sword.

  “For my brother,” he swung the blade, chopping off the Slayer’s head.

  Herrick cautiously approached him. “Master, we need to ride.”

  “First, we put Aldric and the Slayer in the cages.” Alex stabbed the blade in the snow and went to retrieve Aldric’s head. Beside it lay the necklace Herrick had given them. He had to laugh. “Silver. They never once gave us the test, did they?” Unable to look upon his beloved brother’s last moment expressed on his bloodied face, he placed the head in one of the cages. Together, he and Herrick put Aldric’s body beside his head, while the others took care of the Slayer.

  Grabbing the necklace, he handed it to Herrick. “Aldric would have wanted you to have it.”

  Reluctantly, Herrick took it. “How can we trust the Slayers or the Borne, if they do not adhere to their own rules?”

  “We don’t.” Swinging up on his horse, Alex reached down and grabbed the hilt of the broadsword. “Won in battle.”

  One of the gypsies asked, “Why was Aldric’s death demanded? He was not Damned.”

  “My father wanted us dead. It’s as simple as that.” Hatred burning turned cold and calculating as the blood of the Slayer coursed through his veins, strengthening him.

  “What do we do, Master?” Herrick asked, staring at Aldric’s corpse.

  “Herrick, you and your men must return to your families and seek a safe haven. Place distance between you and Wulf Manor as fast as your horses can carry you.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I will return to Berlin. There, I have friends who will give me shelter.”

  Herrick studied him. Those eyes could look deep into one’s soul and see truth. The truth was what Herrick pointed out, “Master, their blood is not yours to take.”

  “Whatever happens, it was brought on by their own selfish hands,” he urged his horse forward. Herrick took hold the reins, halting him.

  “Please, Alex, leave the matter to the Archbishop. When he learns Aldric was beheaded, he will issue them judged for disobeying his orders.”

  “How will he know what happened here?”

  “I will tell him. He was the one who sent us to rescue you.”

  Grateful the Archbishop had seen they were not Damned and had made to set them free, his course, however, was set. “My friend, look after your family. Your worries for me and Aldric are at an end.”

  Herrick’s shoulders slumped. “No, Master, they have just begun.”

  Riding back to Wulf Manor, the need to avenge Aldric drove all sane thoughts away. The manor appeared as a beacon of light in the gathered darkness of rage consuming him. It beckoned him to his goal. Near the closed gates, he pulled back the reins, bringing Saber to a sliding halt. Dismounting, he tied the reins to a tree and left his horse. Broadsword in hand, he ran and leapt in the air, easily clearing the gate. Landing in the courtyard, soldiers rushed him, some shooting, others were armed with swords. He barely felt the bullets hit him as he hacked and sliced his way around them, killing them all. The front door slammed open and out walked Ulrich, a curved Samarian sword held in his hand.

  “You just don’t learn do you, boy?” he bellowed, thrusting his chest out, proud and cocky.

  “Let’s have it out, Father,” Alex held the sword hilt in both hands, ready for the older man to attack. To his surprise, he was hit from behind.

  Alex landed face first in the snow. Leaping up on his feet, he whipped around to face his assailant. Taking an involuntary step back, he stared at his mother, her long, dark hair flowing about her shoulders.

  “Stay out of this, Mother,” he warned, keeping his eye on her while searching for his sword lost in the snow.

  “No, my son, I cannot. My place is beside Ulrich,” she answered with regret shadowing in green eyes a shade lighter than his own.

  In a blur of speed, he had the sword and swung as she shrieked, rushing at him with her nails extended into claws. Matilda’s head flew into the air and bounced, blood splattering the snow in its wake. Ulrich howled out in his fury, running at him with sword raised. Roaring, Alex met the wild strikes, grinning at the grief his father endured at the loss of his mate.

  “Now, you know what I felt when Aldric died at the hands of the Slayer. You are alone as I am.” Punching his father in the face with his free hand, Alex stepped back showing him the sword. “Recognize the blade? Do not worry about paying him. I took care of him for you.”

  Ulrich stumbled, uncertainty made him lose confidence. “How? How did you kill a Slayer?”

  “You mean how I was able to best a Slayer?” Alex circled his father with a wolfish smirk. “Pure hatred. Hate for you, Mother, and the bastard who killed my brother. And just so you
know, Aldric wasn’t Damned.”

  Ulrich stumbled backward. “What? My son was not a demon?”

  “Aldric wore a necklace made of silver. Never burned him. According to the Borne Laws, he had clear proof he still possessed his soul. However, I will not have one, not after this!” He raised his sword and beheaded his father.”

  Fires from the bonfires cast long shadows across the courtyard. Alex dropped to his knees and roared his rage and grief combined. The windows of the house trembled, the house groaned in protest as he gave into his pain. A crunch of feet treading the iced snow had him up on his feet and ready to fight. Herrick led his horse and Saber toward him. Alex expected disappointment from his friend, found only grim acceptance.

  “My lord, you need to fetch clean clothes and wash off the blood. Afterwards, ride to Berlin.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I will ride to Magdeburg and report an attack upon the Wulf family. I shall say your parents died trying to save you and Aldric.”

  “How will you explain our missing bodies?”

  “My brothers are waiting to set fire to the bodies in the cages as evidence the marauders were bent on revenge.”

  “Why, Herrick? Why are you willing to risk your life for mine?”

  “Someday, my lord, you shall return the favor.” Herrick grabbed him, hugging him with a fierce grip. Releasing him, Herrick stepped back and withdrew the medallion from under his coat, holding it for Alex to view it. “We pledge our loyalty to you, Alexander Wulf. To the last of my bloodline, we swear to protect you and your secrets.”

  The words of gratitude for such undeserving loyalty choked Alex. He wanted to stay with Herrick and the gypsies. The consequences of his actions left him a wanted man, to be hunted by his own kind. The gypsies would suffer knowing him.

  “Forget about me, Herrick. I bring only death and heartache to those who love me. I no longer call myself a Borne. Damned is where I belong.”

  Chapter Nine

  Alex killed his parents!

  Sending the dirt flying off her, Kai sat up in her grave, stunned at what she’d witnessed in his dream. Forced to live with what he’d done for revenge, it truly was a miracle he had kept his soul in the aftermath of the horrors claimed Magdeburg and Wulf Manor.

  How had Alex kept his soul after what he had endured and done?

  Herrick. It was because of Herrick and the gypsies were why Alex hadn’t turned demon. They were his family. Years later, it was her mother, Mariah, who kept him going, kept him from slipping into the darkness and becoming a demon vamp while in the service to Jarrod.

  There was a disturbance in the soil to her right and it parted. Alex sat up, the hilt of his sword peaked behind his right shoulder, the silver buckle and belt, attached to the scabbard strapped to his back, caught the moonlight. The Slayer’s sword! He’d kept it, even after it’d been used to kill Aldric.

  Watching her with a grim expression, he said quietly, “Now, Kai, you know my secret. Not even Faeroes or the Council knows that I murdered my parents. My fate rests in your hands.”

  Kai sat there, unable to form a suitable response. He sighed and made to climb out of his grave. Grabbing her backpack and sword, she jumped out of her grave and knelt in front of him, surprising him. “Alex, why did you connect with me?”

  He smiled at her, a small, sexy smile that made her go weak inside. “You were already in my head. I decided it time you saw everything. And, I needed you to understand what happened to my brother and … Lisle.” He paused. “Kai, the wolf we met at the Skaggin’s farm, it wasn’t the same I faced in 1819, was it?”

  “Alex, it was the same wolf, right down to the eyes.”

  “No,” he shook his head, “Lisle killed herself. I personally witnessed it. You saw her jump back in the lodge, too!”

  “I know what I saw happen, but it makes no sense. You and I both know demon vamps normally don’t chose to commit suicide. They love to make people suffer far too much to kill themselves, and they’re pretty determined to stay alive when being hunted. At least the ones I’ve ever dealt with.”

  His broad shoulders drooped in defeat. “At dawn, a woman spoke to me, threatened me. Actually, she threatened to kill you, if I didn’t send you away.”

  “Well, at least I’m forewarned.” She tried to smile but couldn’t, not after what she’d seen — the small bodies inside the lodge … those poor children. “Did it sound like Lisle?”

  He shrugged. “She did sound somewhat like Lisle, only there was something off.”

  “Off? Like how?”

  “She spoke to me in English, not German … yet, she had a thick accent.”

  “Oh, shit, Alex, I need you to drink my blood.” She shifted closer to him.

  “Why?”

  “I need you to see the woman Mina and I met in London, the one I told you about in the dungeon.” Kai offered him her wrist. “See her in my mind and … and….”

  “And what?”

  “Confirm it’s a crazy idea I have that Lisa is Lisle.”

  He took her hand and wrist in his and before she could prepare herself, his fangs sank into her flesh. His lips closed over the wound and suckled her blood. Closing her eyes, she strove to keep from moaning, the feel of him feeding on her, the possession his holding her was making her quiver.

  Alex retracted his fangs and licked the already healed wound free of blood. His green eyes glowed as his long fingers slipped around her hand. “I see her. Blonde, curvy…. Her eyes! Bitch is using glamour to change her face, but she can’t change her eyes or the crazy in them. It’s Lisle. She—” He went quiet. “In the dungeon, she smelt me on you! That’s why she went into a rage. Angel,” he growled. “That bitch. She brought Lisle back. Why?”

  “For revenge. Remember, she called you a traitor? I’ll lay bet she planned to dispatch Lisle on you, have her either turn or kill you in retribution for Jarrod’s death. The real question is: where has Lisle Breber been hiding for nearly two hundred years? Someone that mental could not just lay low and stay off the Slayer radar this long. She likes killing too much. I’ll check with Zoe, maybe she can find out for us.” Digging into her backpack for her cellphone, she scrolled down to Records and dialed it.

  Zoe answered, “Kai! How you been, girl?”

  “Been better. Zoe, I need help.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I need research done on a demon vamp named Lisle Breber.”

  “Was she turned or a Borne who lost her soul? And where is she from?”

  “She’s from Magdeburg, Germany and was turned in 1819.”

  “Wow, she’s been around a while, unusual for a female Undead to last so long. They don’t have the smarts to survive like the males do.”

  “That’s what has me puzzled. This one is beyond twisted and is working with Angel Heart.”

  “Hold on. Did you say Magdeburg?”

  “Yep, we are talking about the Lisle Breber, infamous for being the ‘Wolf of Magdeburg’. I have a witness who saw her commit suicide by jumping into a burning building in 1819. The same witness and I met a-a odd wolf last night that he believes looks exactly like the one the vampiress shape-shifted into when she stole the children.”

  “Why do you want me to research Lisle Breber, if you got a bead on her?’

  “Mina and I met up with a scary vampiress who kills humans and the Damned. The press called her the Ripper. She’s following … me.” Alex arched his eyebrow at her. “I’m in the middle of nowhere and can’t access my files presently. Can you search the last hundred years for bodies found with throats ripped out and mangled? And if you can find any reference to a demon that kills its own kind.”

  “Running your request now. Sorry, the only victims matching your description are in London, the cases you and Mina investigated.”

  “Crap. That means Angel had to have dug her up. Good thing Mina’s hunting that bitch right now.”

  “Tell Mina to be very careful. Angel takes to killing u
s very personal.”

  “Mina’s safe. She has Sin Dracula protecting her.”

  “Dracula? As in the Dracula?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought he was Undead?”

  “So did we, until he passed the tests. He’s on our side and hunting Angel with Mina.”

  A low, appreciative whistle escaped Zoe. “I met Dracula in London, a couple of days before he disappeared. Lord, he was a gorgeous hunk of man flesh! Always wondered if Van Helsing and his hunters had killed him.”

  “There was a real Van Helsing?”

  “Oh, yeah. Good man, bit misguided, still he was a good man. Wait a minute! Mina’s not with you? Girl, you need back up sent out to you immediately!”

  “I’m fine. Alex is with me. I’ll be safe.”

  “Oh, I wish I was in your shoes!” Zoe gushed out, “No one is sexy as Alexander Walker is. You are so lucky!”

  Looking at Alex, Kai caught his amused smile. Uncomfortable sitting next to him and silently agreeing with Zoe, she cleared her throat. “Right. I’m not really sure luck is the word I’d use. The last couple of days have been hell. Our plane was shot down by vampire hunters and we have a psycho vampiress hunting us. Loads of fun.”

  “Are you and Alex going after Lisle Breber?”

  “Yeah, we need to dust her ass fast. She attacked a family and allowed the children to turn. I-I had to put one of them down.” The boy’s surprise as she cut off his head, it refused to leave her. She felt Alex squeeze her shoulder.

  “Ah, Kai, I’m sorry,” Zoe said, distracting her from the fact Alex had willingly touched her again. “Be careful hunting her and give Alex a smooch for me. I know he’s there beside you.” Zoe hung up before she could reply.

  A low beep had her checking her cellphone. Batteries were nearly depleted. “Alex, I need to plug my phone in.”

  “Yeah, I need to plug mine in, too. Let’s head back to the house.” He leapt out of the grave and held out his hand to help her out.

  The minute her hand slipped into his, Kai felt warmth tingle in her palm, traveling up her arm straight to her heart. The heat in his eyes made her knees go weak, yet somehow she found the strength to move. With a pull, he had her beside him. Nervous being close to him, she let go of his hand and grabbed her sword, strapping it to her back. Tossing her backpack over her shoulder, she stopped as the forest chatter went silent. A malevolent wind rose, rustling the leaves. Kai scanned around them, sensing the vampiress somewhere out in the wilderness. Lisle wanted to kill again and again, to feel the hot blood of her victims splashed onto her skin — to feed and feed, draining the world in her hunger.