Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Darkness [Bloodborn 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Tracy L. Ranson

  She twisted in his arms and cupped his chilly face in her hands. “You’ve never told me about your life during your time. You’d mentioned once before about having a wife and children.”

  * * * *

  Drake sucked in a breath, not that he needed to. It just seemed natural. He’d planned to tell Christine about Dagmar sometime, just not yet. The memories remained too near and dear to his heart to share. He closed his eyes against the raging debate in his head. Maybe the time had come to share just a bit.

  “I had a wife, Dagmar. She was my first true love and the prettiest girl of my village. I was the jarl with vast land holdings everywhere. I took her into my bed in my twenty-seventh year. She gave me five sons, two of whom were born dead. Before I became a vampire, she was pregnant with another one.”

  He turned away. How many times had he ventured back to the village after his rebirth only to find Dagmar had married the new jarl, his brother Ulif? He’d been enraged, but what could he have done then? He was no longer human, and no one would have understood his new nature.

  The soft feel of Christine’s fingertips against his cheek brought him back to the present and to the new joy she brought him.

  “Did you ever find out what she had?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He thought it best not to mention that Dagmar had married his brother. The last thing he needed was for her to feel sorry for him. He was not man to be pitied. “She moved on with her life, as did I.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  He read the question in her eyes even before she asked him. “I battled against another band of invading Vikings bent on taking my village and my holdings away from me.” He paused. “We battled three days almost nonstop.” He lifted up his shirt. “See these scars?”

  Christine touched them with a feathery caress, igniting his senses. She bent and kissed every inch of the puckered skin, making his dick hard behind his jeans. “You got all these in that battle?”

  Drake titled his head. “Most yes, but one or two from boyhood. I remember I’d gotten a pretty good drubbing from a fellow Viking and I lay there in the ditch, waiting for death. Clutching my sword to my chest, I waited. I expected the beautiful Valkeryies to ride to me in their silver chariots and to escort me to the halls of Valhalla where I would sit at Odin’s table with my ancestors. I would die a warrior.”

  Christine laid her head on his chest and wound her arms around his waist. “Then this Zakara creature came and turned you into a vampire.”

  He smoothed her sable curls down. “She must have been watching the entire battle, picking and choosing who she wanted to turn.”

  “I take it you were the only one.”

  “No, I wasn’t, but I have no idea what happened to the others.”

  “So she enslaved you to her will.”

  “And her bed for a while. She wanted me to be her vampire king, but I refused. I wanted no part of her bloodthirsty violence.”

  Christine tilted her head back and looked up at him with genuine concern in her eyes. “But you were Viking. Well, actually you still are, and they’re the most bloodthirsty of them all.”

  “There’s a difference. We didn’t kill for sport. We killed to survive, just as we do now except we try to avoid the killing part.”

  * * * *

  Relief flooded Christine, and she relaxed against his big comforting body. She didn’t have to lie or figure out a way to see David. “Thank you for telling me that, but I’m still frightened of what Zakara will do to me if she gets a hold of me.”

  “She won’t. That’s why I won’t let you go anywhere without me for any reason. I may seem a bit overbearing, but there’s a reason for me to do what I’m doing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Drake lifted her chin. His smile returned, sensual and coy while the dark burn of emotions roiled beneath his eyes. “I love you, Christine McCall. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I have fallen in love with you.”

  Christine turned her face to the neatly wooded floor and closed her eyes. She searched the feelings she had inside. She wanted to be near Drake always because he made her feel safe and protected. He took care of her when she was sick or even when she was well. “Thank you,” were the only words she could choke out. She’d never told people that she loved them, including David. It wasn’t in her to say so.

  She returned to her former position and nearly kicked herself. Hurt and pain crossed Drake’s features, making his friendliness disappear, replaced by his former stoic mask. “I’m sorry, Drake. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “No big deal. I was just testing you.” He retreated to another part of the kitchen and opened the giant fridge with tense movements. His jaw remained tight and his lips drawn into a taut line. Pulling out a carton of the ice cream, he started scooping the delicious treat into a bowl for her. “How much do you want?”

  A lump of regret and shame curled in her belly, killing her appetite for anything. Thankfully, the baby seemed to be asleep or else she’d be devouring the ice cream. “I’m going to bed.” She hurried from the room before he could say anything more.

  * * * *

  Drake scooped the ice cream back in the carton and shoved the human treat in to the freezer. He threw the bowl and scoop into the sink and slumped down at the table, his fingers massaging his temple. How could she just utter, “Thank you,” after his telling her that he was in love with her? He’d given her everything, including a baby, and didn’t ask for anything in return except for her love and loyalty. She couldn’t even give that. Damn, he should have waited until she confessed her feelings as well.

  Raphael’s voice echoed from the darkness. “Sounds like you’re drowning in your own misgivings. This isn’t like you.”

  Chapter Ten

  Drake lifted a brow at the appearance of his closest friend and ally. “You weren’t listening in again, were you?”

  Raphael shrugged and took the chair opposite. He wasn’t dressed in his hunting clothes but a pair of jeans, boots, and a denim shirt. “Never. I’m not the company perv. I leave that to Alex.”

  Raphael’s joke forced a grin from him. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Raphael leaned back in his chair and threaded his hands behind his head, his hooded eyes trained on Drake. “She’s gotten to you, and you’ve confessed your feelings before she was ready to.”

  Drake cupped his face with his hands. He wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable and weak at all. He’d always been the fierce warrior, ready, willing able to take on any challenge without a second thought for himself or his life. This time, the battle wasn’t physical but emotional, one he wasn’t ready to fight. “I really don’t want to talk about this, especially with you.”

  “I know the feeling my friend. Here’s what I suggest you do. Go upstairs and talk to her. You can’t go wrong in doing that.”

  Drake tried to make himself believe she used him for some purpose to her own end, but he couldn’t. Christine didn’t have a user bone in her body. She just didn’t know how to love. He’d have to teach her it was okay to be open and honest and to love. “You’re probably right, Raph.” He let a weary sigh escape.

  “Go do it before it gets too late.” Raphael stood and snapped his fingers, making his hunting clothes appear. “Now I need to go before my wife kills me. She’s been dying for Chinese tonight, and I don’t want to disappoint her.” He looked at Drake. “You’re not looking so good, my friend. When was the last time you fed?”

  “The other night,” he answered in a defeated tone. With Christine and the baby in his life, he wanted to be as close to them as possible in case she needed something as well as protect her from Zakara. Besides, in her delicate state, talking about his eating habits would not be the best thing for her. “I’m okay.”

  “Feed soon, Drake. If you’d like, I can find you a donor that can come here so you don’t have to leave.”

  He waved Raphael away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Go hunt and have a good time.”
<
br />   Raphael grinned. “We will.” He went to turn but stopped. “Oh, before I forget, Liz told me to tell you that she’d be happy to sit with Christine on nights when you need to feed.”

  “Tell her I said thanks and I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

  Raphael gave him a salute before dissolving into a black mass of thick haze and disappeared through the window as quietly as he arrived. He loved his coven, but sometimes they intruded where they didn’t belong. He appreciated Raphael’s kind words, but he had to face this alone.

  Drake walked up the carpeted steps, his mind whirling on the words he’d use to talk to Christine. When he approached his door, he noticed she’d closed it. Instinctively, he raised his hand to knock. He pause then dropped his hand. It was his bedroom, damn it, and he shouldn’t have to knock.

  Pushing the door aside, he saw Christine lying in bed on her side facing the window, her breathing deep and even. She was asleep. Defeated, he walked to his side of the bed and slumped into the chair. He took off his boots, followed by his shirt. He leaned back and looked to Christine. Moonlight graced the angled planes of her face in a silvery light and gave her the appearance of an angel. Damn, she was beautiful. If only she could love him back.

  * * * *

  Christine awoke to the rumbling sound of thunder outside, her mind no clearer about her situation than the night before. After Drake’s declaration of love, she wanted so much to repeat those words to him, but her emotions tugged at her mouth and kept her silent. Why couldn’t the ghosts of her past finally go onto their rest?

  “Good morning,” Drake said in a low tone as he walked into the bedroom bearing a tray of eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes, along with orange juice and milk. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  She stared at the mountain of food on the tray he placed across her legs. “Breakfast in bed. What did I do to deserve this?”

  Drake lounged against the tester of the bed wearing a dark expression. “My son needs his nourishment even if you don’t want to give it to him.”

  Guilt nipped at her soul, dragging her heart down completely. “About last night—”

  Drake waved a thick hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s no big deal. I’m used to it.”

  She fought back the tears as pain crossed his face in rippling waves. “No, it isn’t fair that I didn’t say it back to you. I’m sorry.”

  An I-couldn’t-care-less look crossed the handsome features she’d come to adore and loved to caress at night.

  “Don’t worry about it. As I’ve explained before, I’m used to it.”

  The rollercoaster of emotions surged up and down, vacillating between anger and hatred for herself because she couldn’t summon the very words he had said to her. “That’s what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t be used to it—”

  Drake pushed up to his full height and shrugged. “No need to talk about this anymore.” He looked down at her tray. “Eat up or Mrs. Anderson will be upset.”

  She’d met his housekeeper a few times before, and she vaguely wondered if Mrs. Anderson knew her employer was a vampire. “Tell her I said thank you,” she said stiffly. “What are our plans for today?”

  “I’ve got a few business appointments. As for you, you’re not to leave this house.”

  “But I need to take care of a few things—”

  Drake shook his head in a dark, dominant manner. “Absolutely not. Anything you need, call me on my cell and I’ll pick up for you.” He bent down and picked up the keys to her Mustang from the nightstand on her side of the bed.

  She threw him a fiery stare. “Why are you taking my keys?”

  “Insurance,” he snapped and stuffed them into his pants pocket. “That way I’ll make sure you won’t go anywhere.”

  “Fine,” she retorted, trying not to think of the spare key in her wallet. “Take them. See if I care.”

  Drake’s expression darkened. “That’s the problem. You don’t.”

  She opened her mouth to smart off a reply, but he’d already gone, tromping down the stairs in an angry manner. She did care, a lot. Why couldn’t he see that? She cared more than she should, but she was sure she expressed it in so many ways, including having this baby inside of her. Well, that would change.

  She reached for her cell phone and called the local clinic and made an appointment for a consultation. Hot tears of shame and regret stung her eyes. Drake didn’t want her. That was plain to see. Why should she bring his baby into the world?

  * * * *

  “You say you’re about three months along,” the staid little doctor asked her at the clinic. “This ultrasound says you’re almost five.”

  “Um, it’s wrong. My period was almost three months ago,” she said, lying. The moisture dried up in her mouth as she fought back the tears. “When can you perform the abortion?”

  The doctor held up his small hands, the glint of a wedding ring on his left hand. “Now let’s just back up here a minute. Does the father know you’re here?”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m single and not ready to be a mother right now.” The baby kicked its displeasure at her contemplation of its termination.

  He leaned back and gave her a cool look. “Okay, here’s the deal. I can’t do anything for forty-eight hours to give you time to think this over. When the time’s passed, I’ll perform the abortion and you’ll never know you were pregnant.” He frowned. “Since the fetus is so large, we’ll have to do a more invasive procedure, so we’ll have to put you under a general. Can you arrange a ride home for yourself and someone to care for you for twenty-four hours?” She nodded. “See my nurse, and she’ll schedule the abortion for Friday. That’ll give you more than enough time if you change your mind.”

  Christine stood, clutching her purse at her side. “I won’t.” She gulped hard. “I want that man’s baby out of me.”

  The doctor nodded. “We’ll see you on Friday then.”

  Christine turned on her sandaled heel and hurried out of the clinic with hot tears streaming out of her eyes. This was just too drastic for her to do, especially when all she had to do was tell Drake that she loved him.

  She stood on the sidewalk in her billowing sundress in the burning sun deciding her baby’s fate. No, she wouldn’t have the abortion after all. She’d been too hasty in her decision. They could work things out and raise the baby, at least for the next two years until he or she grew to adulthood. She smiled. She’d get to see the little being inside of her grow to adulthood and get to know him or her and watch them develop into their own personality in two years, rather than eighteen.

  Well, her decision was made. She would cancel the appointment to have the abortion and confess everything to Drake. She hoped he would forgive her.

  The sound of screeching tires and the rev of an engine drew her attention away from the clinic’s pristine façade. She blinked in the noonday sun to see Liz’s convertible BMW screech to a halt at the curb. A pang of fear nipped at her spine.

  “Christine!” Liz called from the rolled-down passenger window. “Come quickly!”

  She hurried over and leaned into the handcrafted window, her forearms resting against the rich black leather interior. “Where’s the fire?” she asked causally, trying to bite back the sliver of fear surging through her.

  “Come with me,” Liz stated as she fumbled with her purse. “Drake’s been hurt, and he needs you terribly.”

  Her blood dropped to her feet. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know the specifics, but Raphael had me try to find you—fast.” Liz threw open the door. “Get in.”

  Without hesitation, Christine slid into the passenger side and closed the door. “What do you know?”

  Liz shook her blonde head. “I don’t know. Raphael as usual wouldn’t tell me a thing. I have a suspicion Zakara did something to him.”

  Christine fisted the hem of her sundress, pretending to wipe her sweaty hands. Anger flooded her, making her tremble. If Zakara harmed
a single golden hair on Drake’s head, there’d be hell to pay.

  “What were you doing at the clinic?” Liz asked casually as she turned down the next block.

  Christine kept silent. How much should she tell Liz? “Nothing.”

  “You were going to have an abortion, weren’t you?”

  She paused. “Yes, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to have the baby and tell Drake I love him.”

  “Good idea,” Liz agreed. “Okay, we’ll be there in a minute.”

  The BMW zoomed down through the rest of town and headed toward interstate I-85. Fury mingled with her mounting fear for Drake. What did Zakara do to Drake to bring him near death?

  “Where is he?”

  Liz guided the nose of the BMW through traffic skillfully. “Shut up if you ever want to see Drake again.”

  Christine’s spine hardened as the fear pounded her. The woman sitting next to her wasn’t Liz. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can,” the Liz thing said. “Also because I warned you about the way things are, but you didn’t listen to me.”

  Christine clutched her purse and inched her fingers to the door latch. If she could just open up and roll out into the highway, she could call Drake and he would come and get her. “You said you’d kill me.”

  Zakara morphed into her true form, complete with gauzy outfit and gem-studded crown. “I’ve changed my mind, for you’ll be of greater use to me—alive.”

  Her fingers inched closer to the latch, the cold metal under her fingertips signaling freedom was at hand. “What are your plans for me?”

  Zakara zigzagged through the lanes as if no other car existed, the honking of horns rising through the coming night. “I’ve got quite a few, bitch, one being my breeder.”

  Her breath hitched while her heart slammed in her chest. Drake was right! Zakara would use her until her body could produce no more Nosferim for the army the vampire queen intended to create. “I won’t do it.”