by Siobhan Muir
“I wanted to clarify some business opportunities that have come up with her—”
Sharp fear streaked up his back, cutting him off, and his heart damn near stopped. His heart thundered, and he braced for evasive action, hissing as he bared his canines. Cynthia reacted to his aggressive grimace with a low growl and pushed herself off the stool like mercury.
Fredrick searched the shadows of the kitchen for danger, but when he only found calm, he realized the panic had an outside source. His connection to Bridget shrieked with warning and terrified fury, and he launched himself for the door even before his hearing picked up the screaming.
Something had attacked Bridget on his own grounds.
Chapter Seven
Bridget stood still for a moment outside the door to the big house, inhaling the brisk air. Winter had arrived despite the date on the calendar. She smelled the changes in the ground, of plants and animals settling in for the cold season. She shivered with unease.
God. She stopped herself and guiltily looked over her shoulder. Goddess, is this because I touched Fredrick’s chest?
She’d always recognized the change between summer and autumn, with the cold wet smells of fallen sun baked leaves, but she’d never been able to tell when autumn bowed to winter’s rule.
Damn, now I’m waxing poetic.
She wrapped her arms around her and picked her way over the damp ground toward the river, retracing the steps she’d taken when she tried to escape. The moving water calmed her and helped organize her thoughts.
Okay, Fredrick called me “Goddess-born”, and then my hand turned into a flashlight.
She looked down at it quickly to see if the mark showed in the semi-darkness, but her palm remained quiescent. She huffed a relieved breath, watching it plume before her. At least he’d been right about her hand glowing only when they touched.
Her feet crunched through the brittle leaves left on an open path through the trees toward the river. Why didn’t I find this stupid trail last night? Bridget shook her head and enjoyed the ease of motion as she walked. Her whole body felt great, better than it had in years.
See what you get when you touch a vampire?
Vampire. The word had so many meanings she couldn’t even name them all. Scary summed up her feelings pretty well, but he hadn’t attacked her as she’d expected from a “vampire”.
What is so special about touching the mark on Fredrick’s chest? Maybe that’s where the blessing connects us. She wondered if she touched him now, somewhere innocuous, whether she’d feel the jolt of electricity again.
The word magic whispered through her thoughts, and she scoffed as her feet crunched on the pea gravel at the river’s edge. Plopping sounds dragged her gaze to the flowing water while her mind puzzled through the new idea. Magic?
He said I’m the Avatar of the Goddess. She rubbed her palm against her leg. Goddesses have magic, right?
It stood to reason if vampires existed then magic must as well, and the connection between two total strangers couldn’t be anything but magic as far as she was concerned.
Especially when he’d said he loved her without meeting her.
Bridget groaned. She’d admit when it came to Fredrick, she felt overwhelming attraction, and he had a few qualities she admired. But love at first sight didn’t exist.
The sound of footsteps on the river rocks broke her reverie, and she jerked her head over her shoulder to see who had joined her. The lights of the homes across the river glittered on the water in the growing darkness, but the person who joined her was pale all over. Bridget grimaced and hunched her shoulders, hugging her arms tighter around her.
Shit, just who I needed to see.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” The woman’s dangerously silken voice floated out of the darkness. “Did Fredrick not say you were not to leave the house?”
“He was the one who let me come out for a walk. Ask him yourself if you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t need to ask him,” Ms. Vértolvaj whispered in her ear. “I know when you’re lying.”
Bridget jumped sideways, her feet sinking into the soft rocks at the water’s edge. The cold seeping into her shoes crept up her back with icy fingers. How the hell had she gotten that close without making any noise?
Oh, right. She’s a vampire, too. Moves faster than a speeding bullet and can smell everything.
Then Bridget scowled and stepped back onto solid ground, her hands tightening into fists against her sides. What did this woman care, anyway? From what she remembered, Ms. White Fang didn’t want her in the house or around anywhere.
Suddenly, the white haired woman hissed just like a snake, making Bridget jump again.
“You smell like Fredrick! Did you fuck him?”
Oh no, she did not just ask me that.
“That’s none of your business,” Bridget growled back at her, feeling her lips pull back from her teeth.
“Wily slut! Seduced him, did you? Got out after you fucked him into exhaustion?”
Bridget’s jaw dropped, but she forced herself to think before she said something stupid. She stuffed her anger down deep and took another step away from the enraged vampire.
“Is that what you would’ve done?”
“No, I would have bitten my captor and drawn out his blood until he was too weak to follow.” The death’s head grin wasn’t reassuring.
“Yes, I’m sure you would have.” Bridget’s anger flared ahead of her panic. “For your information, Fredrick gave me permission to take a walk. I’m not leaving the estate. If I was, I certainly wouldn’t have gone toward the river. You don’t have to believe me. You can always go back and ask Fredrick. I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.”
She retreated even further away from Ms. Vértolvaj, but kept her eyes on the scary woman. Warnings screamed in the back of Bridget’s mind as her nose picked up the scent of a bloody corpse fresh from the grave, all damp earth and exposed organs. She didn’t want to know how she knew that, but the smell rolled off the pale woman in waves.
“I bet you would just love that. It would give you time to run.” The icy voice came from her other side, and Bridget froze. “But if Mr. MacGregor wants to keep you, then kept you shall remain.”
“Why do you care?” Bridget surreptitiously retreated. “I thought you wanted me out of here.”
“What Mr. MacGregor wants, he keeps, and I make sure of that.”
What the hell was wrong with these people? First they kidnap her and hold her prisoner, and then they stalk her when she promised to stay.
Jeez, guys, I’m just trying to get my head around being related to a Gaelic Goddess, not to mention the existence of vampires and werewolves. Give a girl a break!
“Bloody fucking hell, woman! All I’m trying to do is understand what in the Goddess’s name is going on!”
“Bloody fucking hell, indeed,” the vampire’s voice whispered.
Bridget slammed into the ground with a weight on her chest, knocking the wind out of her. Fury ignited in her gut as she sensed the pair of fangs closing in on her throat. Fear electrified her muscles, but she forced herself to relax as she stretched out her hands for anything to use as a weapon.
The pale face above her smiled. “Finally accepting the inevitable, I see. You are just a meal, after all. Maybe a good fuck. I’ll have to ask Fredrick when I bring you back. I’m sure he’ll be grateful.”
Goddess, this woman just talks and talks and talks and talks.
Bridget tightened her lips to keep the words inside as her hand closed over a sharp rock. She shifted it into her hand and waited for her lungs to expand before she smashed it with all her strength into the side of the pale oval hovering above her.
The vampire shrieked and toppled off, freeing Bridget. She scrambled to her feet and bolted toward the lights of the house. She didn’t know how much time she had to get away, but Fredrick had been incredibly fast; and she suspected Ms. Vért
olvaj shared his ability.
Humorless laughter bubbled up at the irony. All she’d wanted to do was get out of that damn house for the last few hours. Now, she ran back to it.
Bridget hadn’t gone more than ten steps when the foul-smelling juggernaut hit her again, sending her sprawling into the underbrush of the winter forest. She screamed her indignation and fury as the vampire landed on top of her.
“You will pay for that, you little bitch!”
Ms. White Fang flipped Bridget over on her back and spread her arms out, holding them down with effortless strength. Bridget struggled, jerking against the restraint, but only her torso moved. She hunched her shoulders, trying to protect her throat from the raving lunatic hissing laughter. She groaned and twisted, raising her hips to throw the vampire off of her, but she had no leverage.
“Yessss, sstruggle for me, little She-meal,” the woman sing-songed, her face looming closer.
An infuriated snarl tore through the night, and something slammed into the vampire, flipping them both up with the momentum of the impact. Ms. Vértolvaj held on despite the growling powerhouse scrabbling at her. The vampire let go to deal with the new threat at the last second, and Bridget fell hard to her side, her lungs struggling for breath with the impact. The scents of angry dog and pine forest mixed with the foul reek of death, and she decided guard dogs must be out on the estate.
Bridget rolled to her hands and knees, shaking her head as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. She hesitated, trying to determine what had attacked the vampire in the darkness.
What are you doing? Run, you idiot!
She took a few steps before she realized she had no idea which way to go. Her fall had disoriented her, and the only point of reference consisted of the hissing and snarling mass of conflict somewhere to her left. Her eyes caught a dark, canine form clamped onto the icy pale, human shape, and her feet propelled her further from the combatants.
What can I do to help, anyway? The best thing is to get out of the way.
Bridget spun, searching for the house lights among the dark trees, but her attention stuck on more canine shapes hurtling through the black trunks toward her. She squeaked and froze with her arms clamped to her chest as the animals flew past her with rabid snarls. Like a train wreck, she wanted to turn and look to see where they’d gone when infuriated shrieks ripped through the woods behind her, but her good sense ordered her back the way the huge dogs had come.
She jerked into motion and fled toward anything resembling light. Fear chased her through the woods toward the only point of refuge she knew in this weird nightmare of magic and supernatural beings. She should have paid closer attention to her Comparative Religions and Mythologies class in college. It might have prepared her a little better for nights like this. She snorted and choked on her humorless laughter as she burst back into the clearing around the house, relief pouring through her at the sight of its bright windows.
Almost there.
A hissing boulder slammed into her back, driving her headlong into the ground. Dead winter grass scraped her face as her nose filled with the reek of rotting corpse and dirt. Bridget was flipped over, and instead of monologing, the vampire drove her fangs toward Bridget’s neck.
“Get off me!” Bridget struggled to wriggle her body out from under the decay-smelling bitch on top of her.
Agony tore through her as the vampire sank her fangs into Bridget’s throat, and she screamed. The dogs appeared around them, flickering in and out of her line of sight. One leapt at the pale feeding creature, and the vampire closed her teeth together in Bridget’s neck. The jaws ripped out a chunk of flesh from Bridget’s throat as the huge dog impacted Ms. Vértolvaj, throwing her off Bridget’s body.
Pain overwhelmed Bridget’s awareness, and someone screamed again.
Who’s making all that noise? Goddess, I hurt!
She pressed her hand against the torn flesh of her neck in hopes the pain would recede, but something hot and sticky flowed over her fingers. Cold seeped into her body from the ground.
Ah, there. That feels better.
The dogs swarmed around her and the undead bitch, but she lost track of the world beyond the pain and cold. Why did this feel so familiar to her?
The world exploded into a cacophony of sound. Snarls, growls, and hisses filled the air, but she couldn’t find the source without moving; and she didn’t have the energy. Bridget floated in a cooling space, growing more and more tired, and sound retreated.
A sudden roar split the white noise, and she jerked her eyes open as another human shape hurtled past her with a pair of huge knives in its hands. The figure disappeared from her line of sight and joined in the fight, adding more sound to the overall dissonance.
Hey, that kinda looked like Fredrick.
It took too much energy to keep her eyes open and hold her neck. She relaxed into the enveloping cold and fatigue. A pesky voice warned her she might be dying, but she couldn’t quite work up the worry against it.
The beckoning darkness sucked her down.
****
Fredrick skidded to a halt at the edge of the trees when he caught the scents of death and damp earth poisoning the air. Szilvia’s hunting scent was as familiar as his Aston Marten, but when it mixed with the murky swamp smell of Bridget’s fear, fury bloomed within his chest.
The wolves shot past him toward the river as he raced back to the house to get his weapons, his mind churning with rage. Szilvia had gone too far this time. Her jealousy had caused her to target any female to whom he showed kindness, but attacking Bridget in his home, where she’d been assured safety, incinerated his sympathy to ashes.
He charged out the door in time to see Bridget bolt into the cleared part of the estate. Szilvia streaked from the trees and pounced on Bridget, slamming her to the ground in a blur of motion. The white vampire flipped his Goddess-born over and struck. Bridget screamed, and Fredrick’s blood boiled.
When Cynthia’s wolf form dragged the vampire off, Bridget made a strangled sound of pain before lying still in the dead grass of the yard, and the scent of hot, fresh blood perfumed the night air. The scent spurred him into motion, and he skidded to a halt beside his beloved as fear stripped his heart bare. Bridget lay so still and pale with her hand against her neck, and guilt brought truth to the forefront of Fredrick’s mind.
She only became endangered when you brought her here, you dumbass!
Grief and fear exploded in a roar as he launched himself into the fray.
He waded in with his blades flashing in a shining blur eclipsed only by his fury. The werewolves miraculously avoided the silver death. He aimed all his attention on disabling Szilvia. Anger solidified into a cold lump in his gut, and he drove one blade through her hand, pinning her to the ground. She shrieked and struck at him with her free hand, but Fredrick whirled and thrust the second sword into her opposite shoulder with all his strength. Szilvia slammed into hard earth and squawked with outrage, her gaze locking onto his.
Hurt confusion filtered into her expression. “What are you doing, Fredrick?”
It took all his effort to form coherent words around his bared teeth. “What are you doing, Szilvia? Why did you attack my guest?”
“The She-Meal? She was trying to escape. I stopped her for you. Besides, she’s only human. What does she really matter?”
“She is my soul mate, my true love, the woman of my dreams, pick your metaphor.” Fatigue dragged at him with each moment that Bridget’s life seeped away into the cold earth, but he renewed his focus on the vampire in front of him. He no longer recognized her. She’d become nothing more than a monster to him. “You have broken the codes of hospitality on my own grounds by attacking my guest.”
Szilvia snorted. “She is only a weak mortal, Fredrick! She cannot be important to you. Think of what we have shared over the centuries. She won’t even make it a handful of years. She won’t love you the way I do. Fredrick, think!”
Anger thickened into hard steel around hi
s heart with each insult Szilvia spat, and icy calm enveloped his body. “I will never love you the way I love her.”
Szilvia’s eyes widened once more just before they narrowed with a deep-seated hatred. “She has blinded and deceived you, Fredrick. She is nothing more than a blood bank, and I’ll show you!”
She thrust herself upward, jerking the short sword in her shoulder out of the ground, then yanked the other sword out of her hand. Snarling with her fury, she shot toward the woman lying on the ground behind him with a burst of her fetid hunting scent.
Fredrick didn’t think; he only moved. His hands shot out for the discarded swords in the frozen grass, and he rolled over the top of them, surging to his feet with them gripped in his fists. He twisted his body toward the fleeing vampire, but even with his great speed, he was too slow. A dark, furred shape sprang at Szilvia’s ankles, distracting her from her prey.
Thank the Goddess for Matt!
Szilvia snarled and danced sideways to avoid the wolf, but Fredrick got in her way; and she turned her fury on him. She whirled and slashed with her sharpened nails, but he ducked and spun, reversing the sword in his left hand. He thrust it backward into her body, the impact slamming her to a stop. She shrieked and dropped her hands, her hunting scent dissipating into rancid confusion.
Without releasing the blade, he continued to turn and shoved the second blade through her heart above the first, his hand and hilt pressed against one small breast.
She stared at him with shock and sank to her knees. Fredrick followed her down, his glare as heavy as the knives in her chest. He lifted his chin as he grasped the two blades and jerked them out of her torso, the rotting flesh scent pulled from her with the steel. Before she could stand, he slashed the blades cross-wise to sever her head from her shoulders. The white blond head fell and bounced awkwardly in the dead grass as he spun to return to Bridget’s side.
Fredrick almost tripped over her as the scent of fresh blood and decaying autumn leaves gagged him. He dropped to his knees and set the short swords on the ground, grateful he’d stopped the crazed white monster before she did more damage. Fatigue swamped him, and he swayed over Bridget as her life blood slipped away. Dizziness assailed him, and his vision swam; but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on his lady.