Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel)

by Christina Moore

  Palmer walked with us to the checkout, and also out to my truck when we were done. After the feed was loaded into the bed, he took Mark by the arm and led him away a few steps, presumably to have one of those “man-to-man” talks with him. Naturally, I had to listen in—not that I could have helped overhearing anyway.

  “Now boy, I meant what I said before,” Palmer said seriously in a low voice. “Saphie’s not just a customer—I consider her a friend of mine. She’s a real nice girl, a fine young lady, and she deserves some happiness. Poor girl’s been lonely a long time. If I was about sixty years younger you’d have some competition, understand, but since I can’t be what she needs… Well, you just take good care of her like I’m tellin’ ya to do, hear?”

  Mark placed an assuring hand on Palmer’s shoulder. “I mean to take care of her for the rest of my life, Mr. Meade, I promise you that. Saphrona means the world to me.”

  Palmer patted the hand on his shoulder. “Glad to hear it, son, glad to hear it,” he said, then turned and stepped back up to me, giving me a peck on the cheek. “See ya a week from today, darlin.’”

  I smiled and kissed his cheek in return. “Sure will, Palmer. You be good.”

  “Well, if it weren’t for this tadpole here,” he said, jerking his thumb in Mark’s direction, “you would’ve found out just how good I am. But you gotta settle for him. Have a good day, kids.”

  With a grin and a wave, Palmer grabbed hold of the flat cart and headed back into the store. Mark and I climbed into my truck, and he started the engine as he said, “That old man sure is a trip.”

  “That he is,” I replied. “’Course, he was right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Mark wondered, pulling out of our parking space and starting out of the lot.

  “If he was about sixty years younger, you’d have some competition.”

  Looking over at me, Mark said, “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that later.”

  I grinned wickedly. “Why do you think I said it?”

  *****

  Back on the farm, Mark and I put the feed bags in the tack room of the barn. Juliette hadn’t returned with his truck yet, and since he hadn’t completed his check of the fences the day before, we saddled up Herugrim and Hadhafang and set out to ride around the perimeter of the property. Since we were walking at a leisurely pace it took about ninety minutes to complete the circuit; I was glad to see that there were no repairs needed any time soon. After our mounts were freed of their saddles and had rejoined their sons out in the pasture, the two of us started back toward the house.

  Inside the barn, Mark startled me by grabbing me around the waist and spinning me around to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, though I surprised even myself when I grabbed his hands to stop them pulling my shirt out of my jeans.

  “Mark, what are you doing?” I said breathily as I stepped back.

  He moved forward to grab hold of me again. “I want you,” he said simply, leaning down to kiss me.

  I let him kiss me again, but only for so long. Somehow I had the presence of mind to push him away from me. “You want to make love in the barn?”

  “Baby, I’d make love to you anywhere,” he replied, placing his hands firmly on my derriere and pulling me to him.

  Desire flared through me. I knew that I wanted him, too, and was amazed that I was so ready for him yet again. When he brought his mouth to mine for another kiss, I let it linger on, probably longer than I should have. If I let it continue, I knew, I’d never be able to stop until we both had what we wanted.

  “We should at least…go into the house…where there’s a nice…comfy bed,” I said when his mouth began to make its way along my jaw, my breath already coming in gasps. His lips continued their assault, moving down my neck now, his tongue darting out to lick me here and there. My grip on his upper arms tightened, and I squealed as he suddenly reached down and lifted me into his arms.

  “But I want you now,” Mark told me, and kicked open the nearest stall.

  Thank goodness there was clean hay.

  *****

  As I was preparing our lunch some time later, I found myself thanking God that Juliette had not returned while we were out in the barn—I had been quite vocal when exclaiming my pleasure, and Mark hadn’t exactly been shy about shouting his, either. I could not help but wonder how long this would—or even could—go on, this addictive, insane need for sex. And it was a need, I realized, not just a desire. No way simple desire led anyone to have as much sex as we’d already had.

  Hell, just thinking about making love to Mark had little trills of desire fluttering in my belly.

  Mark had gone into my office to check his email, and I was just about to call him to the kitchen to eat when there was a knock on the door. I walked into the living room warily, as I sensed it was a vampire that had come calling and was not sure who it could be. I wasn’t expecting Lochlan for another few hours.

  But it was my brother on the other side of the door after all, and my face lit into a wide grin as I hurriedly moved aside so he could come in.

  “Loch, what are you doing here at this time of day?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer me. Lochlan’s eyes were darting around the room, and he was sniffing the air.

  “Something’s different,” he said, walking around the room, still sniffing. When he came back to me, he leaned in close and took a deep whiff. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”

  “Loch, I don’t wear perfume. You know that,” I said, a frown drawing my brows together before it dawned on me he was smelling Mark and Juliette. I swallowed hard.

  Lochlan was peering at me closely, his eyes slightly narrowed, and then suddenly his face lit up. “Saphrona, you sly bloodsucker you!” he chided. “You’ve got a lover in the house, or have had one recently.”

  I glanced toward the back of the house. “He’s, uh, still here,” I said slowly. “And Loch, there’s something you need to know about him, but I want something from you first.”

  Lochlan was sniffing the air again. “Oh, bloody hell—is that shapeshifter I smell?” he asked, his faint Irish accent rolling off his tongue like music, a contrast to the slight sneer he now wore. When he looked at me he shook his head. “Honey, you can do better than some flea-bitten mongrel shapeshifter.”

  “That flea-bitten mongrel shapeshifter would be my sister,” Mark snarled, suddenly appearing in the arched doorway to the kitchen.

  Lochlan’s eyes and nostrils flared as he got his first full breath of Mark’s scent when the latter stepped further into the living room, and I could almost hear his mouth watering. I purposely stayed standing between them, praying I was not about to get into a fight with the one person in my family I still cared about.

  “Well, well, well, my dear little sister,” Lochlan purred, his accent getting thicker with each word. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “Mark, meet Lochlan Mackenna, my brother. Loch, this is Mark Singleton,” I said, catching his gaze as I added, “He’s my bondmate.”

  Lochlan’s eyes widened even further, and though it was obviously with some effort, he tore his gaze from Mark and looked at me. “Are you serious? Your dream boat is this enticingly scented man?”

  I nodded.

  A grin slowly spread across his fine, pale features. “Well, Saphrona, that would certainly explain why you’re practically saturated with the smell of sex,” Lochlan remarked in a sly tone. “Been at each other almost non-stop from what I can tell. I suppose it also explains why he isn’t dead yet, as I’d have drained him dry by now. He smells so mouthwateringly delicious!”

  Although I could feel a flush creeping its way up my neck, I refused to acknowledge his words. Lifting my head a little higher, I said, “He’s off limits, Loch.”

  Lochlan closed his eyes for a moment and drew in another deep breath, holding it for several seconds before opening them again. “Damn…but then you have given up homo sapiens for barnyardus domesticus. What I wouldn’t
give for but one taste—oh, you lucky sodding bitch, that you would pair-bond with perhaps the most delectable human I’ve smelled in all my three centuries! When did this happen?”

  “Day before yesterday,” I replied. “After Vangie paid me a visit.”

  I stepped forward to stand closer to my brother. “Lochlan, you have to promise me something.”

  He waved off my words and turned away—probably to get some distance between Mark and himself. “Oh, don’t worry, Saphrona, I’m not going to drink from your bondmate. I would not go against your wishes in that manner, certainly you know that—although, I do admit that it is taking some strength of will to be this dedicated a brother. How can you stand being near him without tasting his blood?”

  “She has,” Mark spoke up.

  Lochlan turned back in surprise. “And yet you are still alive? Oh, sister, how marvelous—your willpower is much stronger than ever I realized. And how perfect is it that you have such strength to keep from killing the man you are bonded to. Well, I suppose that has something to do with it then, doesn’t it? Killing him would end up killing you.”

  I barely restrained an exasperated groan. “Loch, try to get your mind off of food for a moment,” I said. “I need to tell you something, and I want your solemn promise that you won’t tell anyone.”

  “Who cares if you’ve bonded? For that matter, Father will be pleased, although he’ll want the human turned so that the Ancients don’t think the Mackennas are breaking the law.”

  “He’s not human,” I said.

  Lochlan’s eyebrow rose. “Well he doesn’t smell like a shapeshifter, although that scent is still in the house,” he mused. “What the devil else could he possibly be, except…”

  As realization dawned, my brother’s eyes once again widened to the size of dinner plates, and he took a step forward. I backed up three paces to stand directly in front of Mark with a hiss.

  “Off limits,” I reminded him with a snarl. “If you have ever cared about me and my well-being, you will not touch him. And you have to promise me that you’re not going to tell anyone—and I mean anyone—that Mark is a dhunphyr. Promise me that.”

  Lochlan licked his lips, his eyes still wide, his pupils dilated from increased thirst. I had to give him credit—although I could tell he very much wanted to go after Mark, he was restraining himself for my sake.

  After a long, tense moment, Lochlan forced his gaze away from Mark and looked into my eyes. “I promise that no one will hear about it from me, love, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep this delectable morsel a secret for very long.”

  Back to Top

  Nine

  “Perhaps not,” I conceded, having known all along that the news would find its way into the vampire community at some point. “But I want to keep his secret for as long as I possibly can. If what I have heard about dhunphyr blood is true, I know that his status as my bondmate may not protect him entirely.”

  “Sadly, you are correct,” my brother acknowledged. “There are those of us who would not have the same restraint as you or I—and while I will not lie to you and say I do not want him, my love and respect for you as my sister and my friend are too great for me to inflict such harm upon you.”

  I stepped forward to stand in front of him again. “And for that you have my eternal thanks, Lochlan. I mean it.”

  The self-control he was exhibiting had to be taking an enormous toll, and I could tell from the wild look in his eyes that Loch needed blood before his control snapped and he did the very thing he had just promised he wouldn’t do. I also knew that simply drinking microwaved blood would not satisfy him—he would need to feel the thrill of killing something, the power that came from taking a life, in order to put a dent in his bloodlust.

  And because I would not allow my brother to go out and kill some other human in Mark’s place…

  “Mark, we’ll be back in a few,” I said, taking Lochlan’s hand and leading him away.

  For his part, Mark said not a word as he watched me walk my brother out the back door. I found him sitting at the kitchen table when I re-entered some minutes later, and saw in his expression that he was not surprised to see me return alone.

  “Cow or pig?” he asked simply.

  “Pig,” I said, lowering myself into the chair next to him. “One of the girls. One pig should be enough to satisfy him, and should sate his thirst for a good while. A cow would have been way too much, even as thirsty as smelling you made him.”

  Mark reached for my hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Saphrona.”

  I returned his gaze sadly. “I’ll miss Belinda, I admit, but better her than you or some other human.”

  “Then her sacrifice was not in vain.”

  I nodded, then got up and retrieved our own lunch and brought it to the table. Although Mark ate heartily (he may still have been feeling the effects of blood loss), I found that I no longer had an appetite, and I only picked at my food.

  Lochlan returned about half an hour later, and while he glanced at Mark with some longing, he no longer had that wild, hungry look in his eyes. As soon as he had shut the door behind him, he walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

  “I took the body into the woods and buried it,” Lochlan informed us, speaking over his shoulder. “The smell of death should be gone from the barn by the time you bring the other animals inside.”

  He turned the water off and then turned around slowly to face us, grabbing the hand towel and looking at me as he dried his hands. “I am sorry, Saphrona, that you had to sacrifice one of your animals to me. I will be sure to be well fed before I come over next time, if I am still welcome after today.”

  I stood. “Of course you are welcome,” I said, walking over to him. “It makes me sad that one of my girls is gone, but it was for a good purpose. I’d rather you killed a pig than a human being.”

  “Or your lover,” Lochlan added.

  I nodded. “Or him.”

  “Don’t you feed on human blood anyway?” Mark wanted to know.

  Lochlan looked over at him. “I do, dhunphyr, but I do not kill,” he said. “I was an apothecary when I was turned, and I am still one today—although the modern term is ‘doctor.’ I have sworn an oath to do no harm, and although I have killed and do still drink human blood—which I acquire from the bio lab I work at—I have not taken a life in many years.”

  “Much to Diarmid’s disappointment,” I said sourly. “The man has a dozen or more vessels, but still thinks nothing of snuffing out a human life every now and then.”

  “Vessels?” Mark queried.

  “Human donors,” I said, turning back to him. “People that are used over and over again without being turned. A form of slavery, if you ask me.”

  “How so?”

  “When a vampire drinks the blood of a human, if he does not kill or turn him he creates a blood bond that allows him to find the human at any time, in any place,” Lochlan replied.

  Mark looked at me. “Like you did to me?” he asked.

  I nodded as I returned to the table. “Yes,” I told him. “But you were a willing donor. Most vessels are not. They’re usually not aware of what’s going on, nor do they remember afterward what has happened.”

  “How is that possible?” my lover pressed.

  “Because a vampire has the ability to cloud the mind of any human being he comes into contact with. How is it that you are a dhunphyr, child, yet you know almost nothing of our world?” Lochlan queried as he joined us at the table.

  Mark’s eyes flashed at being called “child,” so I reached over and took his hand in mine to calm him. “I was sequestered from the paranormal world from the moment of my birth,” he said in a low voice. “Hidden and protected after the woman who carried me sacrificed her life to one of your kind.”

  “Lochlan, is it true that dhunphyr blood is a narcotic to our kind?” I asked my brother.

  “You have tasted him, sister. You tell me.”

 
I glanced sidelong at Mark. “It could be that I want him because I haven’t had human blood in almost two hundred years,” I began, then looked back at Loch. “But even I know that isn’t true. While human blood is appetizing, I’ve been able to deny it for so long that I don’t even crave it anymore. Now that I’ve had Mark’s, however, I know that I’m going to be hard-pressed to not drink from him; his blood creates a sensation of euphoria that is unmatched by any blood I have ever tasted.”

  “Have you bitten him while you fucked him, then?” Lochlan asked, a sly smile forming on his lips.

  Mark stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. I reached over and grabbed his arm as he glowered down at my brother. “Calm down. It’s nothing to get upset over.”

  “He’s insulting you and I don’t like it,” Mark countered.

  Lochlan sighed and sat back in his chair. “My question may have been a tad crude, but it was hardly insulting. I’m simply curious to know if what the stories say is true.”

  Slowly, Mark turned and reached to set his chair upright, then returned to it. “Then you don’t know if it’s true what they say about my blood.”

  “What I meant by stories are the tales of ultimate sexual gratification when feeding on dhunphyr blood while in the midst of coitus. As to the other stories, those of the blood being addictive, I’m afraid I do know,” Lochlan said. “You see, our father once had an addiction to dhunphyr blood.”

  A hand flew to my mouth as I gasped. “Diarmid fed on dhunphyr? When?”

  Lochlan looked at me. “Not ten years after he was first turned. His sire had bitten a woman with child and killed her, and Father took the child from her womb and killed it. I saw it in his memories at my Coming of Age.”

  “And yet you still associate with the man?” Mark asked him. “How can you be involved with someone like him?”

  My brother shrugged. “I am a vampire,” he said simply. “And the bond between a sire and his offspring, if you will, is not so easily cast aside.”