Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Night [Bloodborn 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Tracy L. Ranson

  Zakara stood up from her throne and paced around the cauldron, her long, talon-like fingers scraping the lip of the bowl. "Raphael hasn't seen reason yet and I can't make him understand that if he doesn't, that fat cow of his is going to die. What should I do?" Her fury was almost beyond her control at this point and it was better not to scare the others.

  "Perhaps get rid of the obstacle," he said with a grin, his black hair framing his face, reminding her of her father's minions. "Let me do this for you, my queen."

  She shook her black curls. "No, my pet," she purred, her fingers running under his chin. "Not yet. There's something I've got to do to break Raphael's spirit and make him understand there is no other place than by my side."

  Arriden's eyes glared an intense green with shades of dark red at the edges. "Though it pains me to know that once Raphael is back I will no longer be sharing your bed, I will do whatever is necessary to make you happy."

  "I know, my pet," she murmured in a sensually low tone, knowing exactly what impact it would have on Arriden. "Even when Raphael does return, that doesn't mean you won't share my bed on occasion as your reward." The urge to take Arriden grew stronger and stronger. Lately, sex had been the last thing on her mind. The desire to prove to Father that she was completely capable of governing the earth and filling it with her disciples took more precedence these days, riding high up there with getting Raphael back.

  Arriden's boy-like smile filled the room with its brightness. "Whatever you wish, my queen, I will gladly provide."

  Her hand slipped down to his crotch and squeezed hard. "There is only one thing that I want more than anything."

  "What is that?"

  "Raphael."

  * * * *

  Her robe was warm and comforting as she snuggled into her bed, diving deep beneath the warm covers. Gabrielle had braided her wet hair, making sure it wasn't knotted. For the first time in a while, Liz felt comfortable and safe, something she hadn't felt in a long while.

  "Here we are," Gabrielle announced as she swept into the room with a tray of tea and a few cookies. "It's not high tea. I guess it'll do."

  "Thanks," she said as Gabrielle placed the tray across her knees. "What kind of tea is it?"

  Gabrielle shrugged her creamy shoulders. "Not really sure. Whatever you had in the cabinet."

  Liz stared at the tea in the cup. She never kept tea in the house and if she did, it was only a tea bag or two, never a whole box or even loose tea. "There wasn't any in the cabinet."

  "That's odd," Gabrielle stated. "Because there was a whole box in there."

  She threw her hand up as the answer hit her. "I'm sure Raphael picked it up when he went to the store."

  "Whew!" Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me there for a second. I thought maybe—"

  "I doubt that Zakara would try anything with all of you around me."

  "I suppose not," Gabrielle said as she sank to the bed. "We never know with her. She taught us everything we know about being vampires. Unfortunately, we don't know everything she knows. I'm sure there's a few tricks she has up her sleeve and we've got to be prepared for that."

  She took a sip of the tea. It was a little bitter and Liz grimaced at the taste. She shook it off. Not being a big tea drinker, she supposed that was how it should taste. "How can you prepare for something you don't know is coming?"

  Gabrielle's beautiful face twisted into a scowl. "We have to do the best we can with it," she said and gestured to the delicate china cup. "Let's drink up, because Raphael wants you to rest up tonight. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow." Gabrielle laughed. "I'm guessing that Raphael didn't tell you."

  "Tell me what?"

  "You're moving into the new house he's bought for you."

  * * * *

  "Okay, who can tell me why Henry the Eighth became disillusioned with the Catholic Church?" Raphael's eyes scanned the class, searching for some spark of intelligence. There wasn't any. Most of them were still hung over from one of the larger frat parties last night.

  "I see no one's read the chapter for this class," he said in a stern voice as he brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes.

  "We were busy," Tommy Jorgensen called out, his bloodshot eyes a silent testimony to his sorry state.

  "I'm guessing that frat party took all of your studying energy," he said sourly as he walked behind the desk and sat down. Amid the blank stares, he noticed that a few of the girls were entranced with him. He ignored them because there was only one woman for him.

  "Most of my beer money, too," Tommy commented, giving his friend a high five, both of them whooping and hollering.

  He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the room. There was only one way to get to them. "Since no one bothered to study for today's class, there'll be a test tomorrow on what you should have studied for today. Also, as an added bonus, the test will be worth one quarter of your grade."

  "That's not fair! Professor Quartermaine wouldn't do this to us!" cried one student from the back.

  "Well, I'm not Professor Quartermaine."

  "You suck!" came a call from another corner.

  He fixed a look in that direction. The offending student went flying out of his chair and onto the floor, the entire desk going with him. The class looked at the boy in wonder as he struggled to get to his feet and gather his things. Raphael smiled. That should teach them who was head of the class. "Any more comments?"

  The students looked forward, none of them twitching a muscle. "Good," he said. "Professor Quartermaine is ill and will be back soon. Until then, I'm going to be teaching your class and therefore the structure will be a little different."

  "What's wrong with her?" asked one genuinely concerned female student.

  "She'll be fine soon enough," he replied, trying to keep all emotion from his face. "Any more questions or comments?" The room was silent. "If there's nothing else, class dismissed."

  The clatter of books closing rose in the air, mingling with the sound of metal scraping the cheap linoleum floor. He sank deep into Elizabeth's chair, leaning back and resting his ankles on the edge. The girls who passed him gave him a smile and a short wave, their eyes conveying the fact they would love to spend one night in his company. His male students didn't even give him a second glance.

  He wanted to laugh at it all yet he kept his face grave. It was best not to let anyone know what he was thinking.

  Raphael interlocked his fingers and placed them behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. How long did Elizabeth think she was going to keep her secret to herself? He grinned. The thought of being a father thrilled him. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. Normally, vampires couldn't sire children. Strangely, if the desire was strong enough, it could transcend the barrier between vampire and human.

  Terror suddenly hit him in the gut like an express train, his breath leaving his body. Raphael slammed his feet on the floor, gasping for air. What happened?

  Raphael, he heard Gabrielle's voice call, I've had to rush Elizabeth to the hospital. I don't know what's wrong with her. Come to Western General. It's pretty serious.

  He leaped to his feet and fished his keys out of his back pocket, his cold blood pooling at the center of his chest. What was wrong with his Elizabeth?

  Chapter 8

  Liz felt her belly tightening and loosening again, almost like she was having menstrual cramps only it was much worse than that. She'd vomited several times at home as well as in the ambulance. Finally, there was nothing left in her system yet she still felt the awful need to throw up.

  Bright lights hung overhead as she was lifted from the gurney to the bed, the murmur of voices around her becoming an annoying blend.

  "What's your name, honey?" asked one nurse.

  Liz blinked hard, not really able to focus at all. The pain was that bad. "Liz — Elizabeth Quartermaine," she corrected herself, not really sure why.

  "How long has this been going on?" the woman asked.

  Her belly sta
rted hurting worse, the area between her legs damp with what she knew was blood. "Just a few hours," she gasped, the antiseptic smell of the emergency room making her want to throw up again.

  "Any information you need, I'll give you," she heard Gabrielle say from her left.

  "Are you a relative?"

  "Yeah," Gabrielle announced. "She's marrying my brother."

  Their voices blended together as she felt the sharp stick of a needle in her arm, the pain drowning everything else out. What caused this? Why did she feel this way?

  "Where is she?"

  Raphael's voice broke through the bustle of voices. She couldn't see him because Gabrielle had forgotten to bring her glasses and she hadn't bothered to put her contacts in.

  "Sir, you can't be in here," said a man, presumably the doctor. "Please go to the waiting room and someone will come and get you."

  She looked up to see Raphael standing next to the man, his arms crossed. He was much taller than the doctor and much more imposing. "Try and remove me."

  The doctor looked Raphael up and down, finally throwing his hands up in the air. "You win. Don't get in my way."

  "So long as you don't get in mine," Raphael warned as he strode over to her side, taking her hand. "How are you feeling, my love?"

  "I don't know what's wrong with me, Raphael," she said, gasping as another spasm crossed her belly. "I was just drinking tea," she murmured, curling up into a tight ball. Why wouldn't the pain just go away?

  Gabrielle appeared at Raphael's side and cut into their conversation. "C'mon, Raphael, let's go into the waiting room and let the doctors fix her up."

  Something in Gabrielle's voice made him stiffen. "Perhaps," he said slowly, looking at Liz. "I don't want to leave you alone."

  "The doctors are here with me," she said through stiff lips. "Zakara won't try anything."

  Gabrielle urged him up from his seat, her hand gentle on his shoulder. "Come with me, Raphael."

  Reluctantly, he let go of Liz’s hand. "If you need me, just say my name and I will be here," he whispered, brushing a kiss across her forehead. He turned to the doctor, his stern green eyes grave and dangerous. "If anything happens to her, I'm holding you personally responsible. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Are you threatening me?" the doctor asked nervously.

  "No, I'm just warning you ahead of time so there are no fuck-ups," he said as he inched toward the door.

  Liz watched him walk out the door, led by Gabrielle. Part of her wanted him to stay yet she knew he had to leave.

  Her belly twisted into about forty different knots, making her cry out.

  "I'm going to give you something for the pain," the doctor announced, as he slipped on his rubber gloves. "Let's find out what's going on here."

  * * * *

  Raphael felt his anger boil over and he did his best to contain it. "What exactly happened?"

  Gabrielle shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I fixed her some tea and cookies. After that, she fell asleep and woke up, maybe about an hour later, howling in pain."

  He stared at the odd wallpaper pattern circling the room, his mind whirling on the possibilities. Did it have to do with the tea? "Is that all?"

  "Zakara didn't get to her, if that's what you're thinking. I never left her side for a second."

  He crossed his ankle over his knee, his fingers drumming on his leather boot. "Where did you get the tea?"

  "In the cabinet, right where you left it."

  Raphael turned, glaring at her hard. "What do you mean, 'where I left it'? I never put any tea in the cabinet."

  "Well, I didn't put it there and neither did Elizabeth…." she trailed off, her eyes widening. "You don't think Zakara did something, do you?"

  "Go and get that tea because I'm going to have it analyzed. If I'm not mistaken—"

  His words were cut off by the appearance of the doctor, the man's face grim.

  Raphael leaped to his feet and closed the distance between them, fear rising in his veins like the moon at midnight. "Is she all right?"

  "I'm Dr. Thompson and I do have some news for you. If you will follow me..."

  "Tell me what's wrong with my fiancée!"

  "It's hospital policy to take you into a separate consultation room and give you the news," Dr. Thompson announced and gestured for Raphael to follow him down the hall.

  He cast a look at Gabrielle. "Make sure you go in there and make sure nothing happens to her."

  "You got it," Gabrielle responded and slipped down the hallway to the emergency room.

  Dr. Thompson directed him to a small, closet-like room at the end of the hall. He opened the door and went in, followed by the doctor, who said, "I know you're anxious, Mr…."

  "Chamberlain," he supplied as he slid into a chair opposite the door.

  Dr. Thompson took a seat across from him, laying nervous hands in his lap. "As you know, your fiancée was brought in with severe abdominal pain—"

  "What caused it?"

  Dr. Thompson held his hands up. "I'm getting to that. At first we didn't know what caused it until your fiancée filled us in."

  "Filled you in on what?" Fear seized him, gripping him in its cold clutches. He didn't want to hear what the doctor was going to say next.

  "Oh," Dr. Thompson said, a mask of surprise sweeping over his features. "I guess you didn't know your fiancée was possibly pregnant."

  The moment those words entered his mind, everything seemed to blank out, his hope for a new future dying. "You said was. I'm guessing she's not anymore."

  "I'm afraid not," Dr. Thompson said sympathetically. "It's actually a miracle that she might have gotten pregnant in the first place."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, we did an ultrasound to get a look into what was wrong. We didn’t really get a good idea of what was happening. What did come up were some abnormal twists in her fallopian tubes.”

  He leaned back, digesting all of the information. "Are you sure?"

  Dr. Thompson nodded his shiny bald head. "Positive."

  "Can I see her?" Anxiety stormed through him, the need to see Elizabeth and make sure she was all right.

  "She's resting after the medicine we gave her and she's going to be pretty groggy but she should be up to seeing you."

  "When can I take her home?" This hospital was no place for her. Zakara could be hiding in anyone or anywhere, waiting to strike.

  "Not for a day or two."

  His brow rose, matching his anger. "Why not?"

  "Because we'll need to do a D&C before letting her go."

  Raphael looked at the doctor his eyes narrowing. "A D&C?

  “We need to make sure than any an all foreign material is out of the uterus to stop the bleeding and promote healing. It’s a common procedure after a miscarriage.”

  "Can the surgery be done tonight?" He hated what had to happen. The very thought of his child being sucked out of his beloved's body was almost too much for him to think about. “It’s imperative that I take her home."

  "You can't," Dr. Thompson insisted. "There's a good possibility she could bleed to death."

  “It must be done.”

  "Dr. Waterhouse is on call. Perhaps I can persuade her to do it tonight. I can't guarantee anything. She may decide to wait."

  He leaned forward and scowled, hoping that the doctor would see the seriousness of the situation. "There is no question about it. It is imperative that it be done tonight."

  The doctor stared at him, as if to size him up. Damn, he was going to have to glamour the good doctor if he was going to get anything done. “Look into my eyes.”

  “What?”

  “Look into my eyes.”

  Dr. Thompson did as commanded and stared into the red depths of his glowing eyes, falling completely under Raphael’s spell. “You will have the procedure done tonight. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, master,” Dr Thompson answered in a deep, low voice. “Your will be done.”

  “Good. Summon the doctor on call
and arrange everything.”

  “Yes, master.”

  He turned off the glamour. The man remained entranced as he walked over to the phone in the lounge and picked up the handset. He mumbled some inane sentences and put the phone down. “It is all arranged, master.”

  Raphael closed the distance between them and placed a hand on Dr. Thompson’s shoulder. “You’ll remember this as just a dream, nothing more.”

  The older man shook and spun around on a rubber heel, his graying brow lifting. “I’m sorry, what was I saying?”

  “Nothing.” Raphael left the lounge and the bewildered doctor in his wake. The less humans knew about his kind, the better. Their mortal minds couldn’t even begin to grasp what an existence of a vampire really was and there was no sense in overloading their tiny brains with the concept. He stuck his hand out. "Thank you," he replied, shaking the doctor's hand. "You don't know how much this means to me."

  * * * *

  A haze surrounded her mind, a fog she couldn't get out of. Everything seemed surreal and elusory beyond her control. She tried to focus with the cloud of drugs, she couldn’t. To her left, a face appeared in her field of view, the hair dark and the expression loving. "How are you, my love?"

  Raphael's voice penetrated the mist around her, helping to bring her back to reality. "I'm okay," she said through stiff lips. "I guess the doctor told you what was wrong."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because I wasn't sure," she confessed as she covered her eyes from the blinding haze of the fluorescent light above. "I didn't want to get your hopes up, and I hadn't made a decision about the future yet."

  She felt his hand on her arm, loving and gentle. "Whether or not you're pregnant, I'm still going to be by your side. A child would have been an added bonus. ”

  "No, Raphael. This baby was a fluke. I shouldn't have been able to get pregnant at all and it's gone." She sobbed, the tears rolling down her cheeks. All she had ever wanted to be was a wife and mother. For years, she'd buried herself in school and work, trying to eradicate the pain and misery of her loneliness from her mind. With Raphael, she'd found happiness and had the one thing in life she'd always wanted.

  Raphael shoved her hand away from her eyes and stared at her with a fierce intensity. "There will be others. I've got enough money so that we can try again."