Becomes the Rose

by Pelaam

  Chapter Six

  The vintage Phantom sped over the deserted road. Tarin glanced down at the supplies on the passenger seat. He hoped they were enough. He’d driven this road almost every month since the November of the previous year. He felt as if he knew it better than the roads of the city of his birth, long since left behind.

  He’d left behind everything other than what currently sat in the car; resigned from his job, sold his house, and bidden farewell to friends and family. They thought he was going travelling for a year. Tarin knew he was going to find his destiny. If Boyce had died, Tarin would still not go back. He had found his life to be cold and empty without the vampire’s love to keep him warm. If Boyce lived, then Tarin would demand he be turned or sired or whatever the real term for becoming a vampire was.

  He readied himself for whatever he might find as the mist came into view and, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, reached for one of the weapons at his side.

  Bursting through the mist, he tried to assimilate what was happening. He could see Boyce being dragged by Martha and Carole as Edward fended off a thick-set, brutish man. Growling in the back of his throat, Tarin stood on the accelerator and rammed Edward’s attacker, uncaringly watching as he was thrown into the air.

  “Get him in, Martha, the rest of you too,” he shouted, leaning back to open the rear passenger door. As they struggled to get the limp, bleeding figure inside, Tarin snatched up one of his weapons.

  Screeching in rage, Anton sped towards them and as he closed on the car, Tarin leant out of the window and fired his gun. A stream of water struck the vampire, and he dropped instantly, smoke rising from him where it had caught exposed skin.

  “Eric, no!”

  Turning at Flynn’s anguished cry, Tarin saw the young vampire writhing helplessly on the ground, a wooden spike through his thigh. Flynn was already engaged in battle, as were Jorge and Monique. Glancing back to ensure that the human members of his lover’s family were safely inside the car, Tarin put his foot on the accelerator and shot forward once more.

  “Prepare to die.”

  Although Tarin could not hear the words, he could read them and see the hatred in the eyes that looked down at the helpless Eric. He saw the vampire cast a glance of love, sorrow, and regret in Flynn’s direction. It was with no little sense of satisfaction that Tarin rammed the car into Eric’s attacker, watching Eric’s eyes widen as a stream of holy water cascaded over the fallen assailant to leave him writhing and screaming. Tarin met Eric’s gaze with determination.

  “Help him in,” Tarin ordered.

  However, before anyone could move, Flynn, Jorge, and Monique were there. Flynn gathered his lover in one large arm and stood on the car’s footplate, holding the passenger door with the other.

  “Jorge, Monique, go back to the house and have Ewan open the garage doors. Stop for nothing and no one, Tarin. The Master is bleeding too freely. He needs to be tended.”

  Tarin did not need to be told twice. He obeyed the blond vampire, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the house ahead and trying not to focus on the sounds behind him.

  Overhead the sound of thunder rumbled ominously, and lightning illuminated the sky. Flynn frowned as he held his injured mate. There had never been a storm in all the time they’d been trapped. Glancing around, there was no suggestion of rain, and it did not feel as if there was moisture in the air. If anything, it felt cloyingly still. He pushed it from his mind. He had far more pressing things to concern himself with.

  He gave a sigh of relief as the car sped into the garage, and Ewan closed the doors solidly behind them. They would be safe for now. A vampire could not enter where they had no invitation. However, he was certain that Anton would settle for nothing less than slaying them all. While their Master remained incapacitated, he would have to take charge and ensure he protected them all.

  Especially the courageous young human who was the beloved of his Master.

  Jumping from the car, he barked his orders, confident they would be obeyed without question.

  “Jorge, Edward, Carole, you start upstairs. Secure all the windows. Martha, Ewan, you do downstairs. Monique, help Eric into the sitting room and let him feed a little, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll take the Master to his bedroom. You follow me, Tarin.”

  Obediently, Tarin ran up the stairs. The blond had already vanished, but Tarin was certain they were headed for Boyce’s bedroom. He reached the door and glanced inside. Flynn had already pulled off the shirt his lover had worn and was laving the deep wound to Boyce’s chest.

  “What can I do?” he asked as Flynn moved back.

  “Come here,” the blond commanded, his emerald eyes glittering. “You will have to be careful with him. He has lost a lot of blood and will be dangerous. You can feed him a little, just to help with blood loss. Then you leave him here and join us. I don’t have time to heal the wound completely but once he starts to feed, his own healing processes will take over. I’ll send Jorge through to feed him more. It’s not safe for a human to be so close to him now.”

  “He’s my soul-mate,” Tarin said, tilting his chin obstinately. “I’m not going to abandon him.”

  Human and vampire stared at one another and then Flynn shook his head

  “I have to admit, I’m not sure if you’re brave or just stubborn. However, I think that, if we survive the night, you will make a very suitable match for my Master. But right now you could do more harm than good by staying,” Flynn said, his eyes narrowing and his tone brokering no further argument. He was obviously used to instant obedience.

  “I love him,” Tarin countered, not cowed by either the tone or the vampire’s look.

  “As do I,” Flynn growled. “I love him almost as much as my beloved Eric. I have known Boyce for centuries and know what I am saying, boy. Feed him a little and then get out. I don’t have time to argue.” As if Tarin’s obedience was a foregone conclusion, he took hold of Tarin’s arm and nipped daintily at his wrist, the blood welling up instantly. “A minute or two at most,” he reminded Tarin as he left the room.

  Settling next to his lover, Tarin pressed his wrist to Boyce’s mouth. He sagged with relief as he felt his lover respond, sluggishly at first and then with growing vigour. He murmured promises of love and devotion, unaware of the passing of time. Feeling the vampire start to move, Tarin moved back. Although it was intended only to give Boyce room, the menacing growl had Tarin instantly remembering Flynn’s warning.

  He stood hurriedly, thinking that in Boyce’s depleted state he would reach the door faster than the vampire.

  He was wrong.

  From in front of the door his lover had tried to bolt through, Boyce approached slowly towards Tarin, backing him up until he there was nowhere for Tarin to go, and stood in front of the young man. Placing his hands on the wall on either side of the boy’s head so Tarin could not escape, Boyce leaned down and nuzzled into the long hair and then he licked and nipped the tender skin behind one ear. Inhaling deeply, he coveted the scent of his mate; a scent now overlaid with a tinge of fear.

  Boyce made note of something that had escaped him up to now. His heightened sense of smell picked up another vampire’s touch on his mate, his and only his. With a snarl of fury, he reached forward and tore the shirt from Tarin, baring the human’s chest to his hungry gaze. Another vampire would not claim what was his.

  Except for a gasp, Tarin remained motionless as Boyce rubbed his cheek down his bare chest, marking his mate with his scent, then turned his head, licking down his practically hairless torso, pausing to lave at both nipples. Boyce crooned softly, pleased at the way Tarin arched into him without fear, obviously forgetting the danger he was in. Boyce needed both blood and to reclaim what belonged to him.

  Tarin tried to move his arms. No! His mate’s attempted escape would not be tolerated. Tarin belonged with him. Here. Boyce wrapped Tarin’s hair around his fist and pulled his head to the side, baring his throat. Better. He licked at the vulnerable flesh; it wa
s warm and sweet and the thundering pulse beneath the surface called to him like a Siren’s song.

  Despite being weakened due to blood loss, Boyce’s strength was still overwhelming for a mere human. The vampire used his body to pin Tarin in place against the wall.

  Determined, Boyce laved and sucked at Tarin’s throat, centring over the frantically beating pulse. Tarin whimpered. Boyce could hear the fear, yet in his mate’s eyes he could see Tarin had faith that Boyce would not hurt him.

  “Mine,” Boyce growled, and then sank sharp fangs deep into his lover’s throat.

  This was not like the feeding when they had made love, it was much rougher. Bloodlust filled Boyce as he subdued his prey. His mate jerked in Boyce’s arms, his body instinctively tying to resist the frenzied feeding as his life’s blood was drained. The slowly rising scent of fear was intoxicating and it urged Boyce to drink deeper, to sate himself with Tarin’s living essence.

  Slowly the bloodlust began to clear. The body under him lay almost lifeless except for a weakly fluttering pulse and barely noticeable breaths. The fear scent in the room strengthened. Horrified, Boyce pulled away, yanking his teeth from his victim’s throat, and the body crumpled to the floor with a weak cry.

  “What have I done? Tarin, my love, forgive me.” Boyce carefully cradled Tarin in his lap, watching desperately for signs of returning consciousness.

  Eyelids fluttered against pale skin.”I… knew,” Tarin murmured. “Trust… you… love…”

  “Hush, love, don’t try to speak. Why did they leave you with me?”

  “I… insisted. Others… needed elsewhere.” Even with his acute hearing Boyce had to strain to hear Tarin’s whispered answer as he nestled against his mate.

  Boyce lost track of the seconds or minutes as he mourned his lack of control.

  “Master, I’m sorry.” Jorge’s softly accented voice caused Boyce to raise his head from where it lay buried in Tarin’s hair. “I was to come to give you my blood and ensure the boy was safely away. One of Anton’s minions got through a skylight and let in a lesser.”

  “Are we secure?” asked Boyce, his arms instinctively tightening around the precious life in his arms.

  “Yes,” Jorge said. He gave a chilling smile. “The minion is dead and the lesser dust. Something is happening out there. Something not even Flynn understands. There sounds like there is a storm, and we have heard screams. There has not been another attack since that at the skylight.”

  “I need to be downstairs,” Boyce said. He stood, attempting to carry Tarin, but was unsteady. He still needed to feed.

  “Please, Master, permit me to carry the boy for you,” Jorge said, reaching out.

  Although Boyce would have preferred to keep Tarin close he appreciated the younger vampire’s gesture. Trying to not let his reluctance to allow his mate to leave his arms show, Boyce transferred Tarin into Jorge’s care.

  “I will protect him with my own life if needed, Master,” Jorge said softly as he accepted the young human.

  “I pray it does not come to that for any of us,” Boyce replied.

  “I can walk,” Tarin muttered against Jorge’s shoulder, although he found his body strangely reluctant to obey him when he tried to get out of the dark vampire’s arms.

  “When you can walk like a stallion and not a foal, I will release you.” Jorge smiled. “Until then accept that your mate has put you into my care. You will be with him soon.”

  Sagging into Jorge’s arms Tarin decided to accept his position, glad his faith in Boyce’s control had been proven. He buried his face against the vampire’s chest as he was rapidly carried from the room. His stomach protested the sudden, swift motion.

  As Jorge came to a standstill, Tarin lifted his head to peer around. Boyce and Flynn stood closest to the front door, which he noticed was barred with iron. Eric lay on the love seat situated at the side of the staircase. Tarin could see that his wound was covered with a basic dressing which had become blood-soaked. Martha and her family stood, either watching towards the kitchen or the front door, with Monique nearby as if protecting them.

  “Can you stand, kleiner?” Jorge asked.

  Swaying slightly, Tarin forced himself to become upright. He needed to be a help, not a hindrance. He watched Jorge take his place by Boyce and Flynn. He moved to stand close to Eric, unsure if the young vampire would be able to protect himself, and accepted a slender, sharp metal spike from Edward.

  “What is that?”

  Jorge’s shocked voice drew the attention of them all. Tarin watched, stunned, as thin tendrils invaded the house through the tiniest cracks around the secured door. As they surged forward, they thickened and the door began to groan under the assault. It began to shudder as the creepers writhed and found purchase where none was visible to the naked human eye. Finally, with a screech, the door was wrenched from its hinges to lay discarded on the floor.

  But it was not vampires that sought entry.

  To Tarin’s eyes, the old, gnarled tree standing in the doorway looked identical to the one he had leant against a year ago when Boyce sacrificed his happiness to protect him. Behind it was a group of other trees. Glancing around, he could see the vampires were as stunned as he was. His eyes widened as the trees began to blur and change, slowly becoming human.

  “The curse is broken.”

  “Dacian!”

  His lover’s hoarse voice had Tarin taking a few shaky steps forward before he halted and stared. The tree was now an elderly man, who gazed with remorse at Tarin’s lover.

  “I spoke without thinking. I wouldn’t listen and thought you all the same. I was so wrong, and in cursing the innocent with the guilty, I cursed myself and my family too. I do not know if you can ever forgive me, Boyce.”

  “Recriminations are worthless, Dacian. You suffered as did we.”

  “We watched and we waited. Your sacrifice broke the curse but was too close to the cusp to take effect. As soon as the year passed, however, we knew we would be free and I begged to be able to keep you safe and punish those I should have so many years ago. Now I do not know what we will do.”

  As Tarin glanced around, he could see that it was not just the group of gypsies who were distressed. Flynn cradled Eric as the young vampire cried in his lover’s arms and Martha and her family were being comforted by Monique. He stared at Jorge as the dark vampire came to stand beside him.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “The curse is broken, yet everyone is so sad.”

  “The power of words, kleiner,” Jorge shook his head. “Once uttered they cannot be taken back and they have such a far-reaching effect. Eric had only just turned and had parents and a much-loved older brother. He knew he would watch their passing, but expected to care for them as they aged. They will have long since died. Martha had three sisters, one was Edward’s mother, and Ewan two brothers. All gone. The joy of our freedom is tempered by the sadness of what we and our loved ones have lost. I had two minions of whom I was very fond.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tarin whispered.

  “You saved us. You have nothing to be sorry for, kleiner. Sadness will give way to joy once grieving has passed.”

  “Are you alright, my love?”

  The gentle words of his lover as he was tenderly enfolded into strong arms broke the dam of Tarin’s emotional restraint, and he sobbed his own pain into Boyce’s broad chest. Eventually Tarin’s sobs subsided to be replaced with an occasional hiccoughing tremor. Still Boyce did not loosen his embrace. After a while, Tarin pushed back from Boyce’s chest, although he did not break his lover’s hold. He looked up into azure depths for a long moment and took a deep breath before speaking.

  “Make me yours, Boyce, for all time,” he said softly, but firmly. In his life, Boyce came first, and as far as Tarin knew this was the only way to ensure they would always be together.

  Boyce held close the one thing he loved most in this world, gazing proudly and lovingly at the human who regarded him with such adoration and trust.
Tenderly, he caressed the younger man. He stroked the smooth cheeks and then his fingers carded through the luxurious chestnut curls. Smiling, he leant forward and placed a soft kiss on Tarin’s mouth.

  The touch reignited the warmth between them as if they had never been apart and Boyce heard Tarin sigh softly as he pressed his lips back against his.

  Boyce felt Tarin responding and his own long restrained passion was reawakened. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the younger man’s lips, asking for entrance, and it was granted. Boyce thrust his tongue forward, teasing and exploring. A soft whimper came from his lover, and Tarin’s hands reached for him as the younger man let himself to be swept away by the growing heat.

  It was with every ounce of his self-control, and utter regret, that Boyce eased away.

  “Not here, not in this place of so much sadness and death,” he said soothingly. “We can be in my real home in just a few hours. That will give me time to recover even more from my spiking so that I can care for you as you will need.”

  “You promise?” Tarin asked. “When we get there?”

  “I’ll need to organise a few things that are necessary, but yes, when we get there I will make you mine forever.”

  They kissed deeply, sealing the vow.

  Chapter Seven

  Although the bedroom Boyce led him to was sumptuous, Tarin had been left alone for hours. He had not even been given the opportunity to sit cuddled up to his lover on the journey to Boyce’s home. He’d sat in the passenger seat while Flynn and Eric rested in the back, the blond vampire letting his lover feed and recover from his attack.