Eternal Bond (Edanholme Book 2)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

  Opening her eyes slowly, a delightful pout on red tinted lips, a female succumbing to the

  suggestive sensuality of an eager male caught sight of the clock on the kitchen wall.

  “Bugger… This witch is going to be late for work.” Jumping from the stool, slipping her

  toes into cosy Ugg boots, Alex took a gulp of ice tea to clear the taste of lust from sorely

  beleaguered senses. Holding out her parka, the Bard helped her to slip it on before

  twirling a wickedly wanton female to face him holding the edges of the jacket in both

  hands to lock her in place.

  “I will be ready and waiting with more fruit for your return home Aingeal…” His words

  held out all the promise of an erotic heaven. Fighting off the weak kneed submission to

  a wild force of primal nature, she swallowed noisily.

  “What do you intend to do with your day Mister Highfell?” Teague was bursting with

  sexual energy, eyes burning deeply amethyst and heatedly inviting.

  “I plan to hone my weapons skills on the practise grounds.” He needed to relieve the

  vibrating tension in a certain area of his body, or his female would be worn out by the

  rapacious hunger for her love. “If an invasion of alien transvestites masquerading as

  doctors, come in search of my Aingeal, I will be ready to protect that which is mine…”

  A soft kiss brushed her brow. If he kissed her on the mouth, the optical practice would

  be minus Ms Franklyn today.

  “Pretty heavy stuff then… Much more interesting than my day is going to be.” Backing

  up a couple of inches to breathe more easily, Alex ran a hand over his cheek.

  “I’m going to finish early, to do some Christmas shopping. I’ll text Cat when I get home.”

  Turning his head, the Bard nipped at little fingers with sharp teeth.

  “You know how annoyed the Queen becomes when you do that…”

  An unrepentant angel shrugged in dismissal of her best friend’s bad moods, a brilliant

  smile reaching crystal blue eyes.

  “Do I look as though I care…? Bye Riff-Raff, see you tonight.” She whisked out of the

  flat before the throbbing ache in her belly overrode sanity.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Shopping piled high on the breakfast bar, Alex made a mug of hot chocolate to help banish

  the cold bite of a freezing winters day. She had left work early, impatient to get back to the

  Bard and the sun-drenched warmth of their private cove.

  From her apartment window she spotted Ameia entering the Plaza across the high street.

  A modern complex of cinemas and restaurants that bustled with teeming crowds of

  Christmas shoppers. Alex was surprised at Ameia being alone in the town. The waif had

  blossomed into a gorgeous young woman, no longer a half starved skinny adolescent.

  The hybrid vampire had attached herself to the angel of Edanholme as an unofficial gofer.

  A tentative friendship formed slowly, Ameia held back from any intimacy initially. The fear

  of rejection lived in eyes of midnight blue. Alex fostered the girl’s growing confidence, trading

  favours she showed her the best websites to acquire new clothes, in exchange for taking on

  much of the mundane tasks that were boring and time consuming. Wary of the enforcers and

  the Sidhe inhabitants of the settlement, the waif had learnt fast to keep her vampire origins

  hidden. Once she had moved into the tree house, their relationship had blossomed as they

  became near neighbours across a small stretch of water. Alex had tried discreetly to learn

  more of the life a waif had led prior to a crash landing in paradise. She had been met with

  silence. Alex had the feeling Ameia was biding her time, assessing the security of her present

  situation before she felt safe enough to reveal her past.

  Sipping at a steaming mug of marshmallow coated sin in a cup, Alex saw the young girl

  emerge back on the street in minutes, to dart across the road in front of a speeding Taxi.

  Alex held her breath waiting for an impact that didn’t materialise.

  Ameia could move incredibly fast, her instincts were honed to that of the warriors she learnt

  her fighting skills from. True to her word, Alex had joined in the very first training session,

  which lasted about ten minutes before she begged for mercy.

  The consensus of opinion between the enforcers was, if danger threatened she should run

  like hell in the opposite direction screaming her lungs out.

  She had the last laugh when she beat every last one of them, including Ameia on the archery

  range. The victory dance went on for hours.

  Curious as to what was causing the young girl to be so distracted, Alex shrugged on a pink

  parka and Ugg boots over jeans and jumper. She didn’t have the right to spy on any member

  of Edanholme, but Ameia was the closest she would ever come to having a little sister.

  Fear for her safety was uppermost in Alex’s mind as she raced down two flights of stairs.

  Turning the corner of the block Alex picked out the white fur jacket she’d bought for her

  adopted sibling. The girl was dodging the crowds, heading out of town towards a derelict mill

  complex destined to be remodelled as plush apartments. Glancing over her shoulder Ameia

  ducked inside the crumbling building.

  Hovering in the doorway of a garage opposite the old mill, Alex waited impatiently for her to

  re-emerge. Two young boys, youths, glanced in her direction before following the girl into the

  building. Stamping her feet to keep warm in sub-zero temperatures Alex wished Teague was

  with her, suddenly the air felt dark, filled with an unknown menace.

  Just about ready to believe Ameia had given her the slip, the girl dipped back through the

  broken doorway into dwindling daylight. Winter was reaching its solstice, nights were

  drawing in fast. Relieved to see Ameia unharmed, Alex decided not to confront her on the

  street. It could wait until they were surrounded by the protection of the warriors.

  Turning away Alex walked down an alleyway, taking a short-cut back to her apartment.

  She had only gone a few steps when an attack came from behind, a stifling hood was pulled

  over her face as two bodies sandwiched her in a prison of strong arms. Alex recognised the

  disorientation of translocation. She barely had time to register the fact she was being

  abducted when a solid fist took away consciousness.

  Waking up with an aching head, sluggish in the freezing cold, Alex realised she was inside

  the derelict mill. Trapped in a room with no windows, what little light reached her came

  through holes in the ceiling, filtering from the room next door.

  Curled up on an old blanket she was a prisoner in the basement, frozen in fear.

  Locked dark cupboards had been a form of punishment used by foster parents, to teach a

  young girl the lesson of obedience. The terror she felt as a child, the claustrophobic fear of

  being left to die in the dark, brought a scream bubbling up her throat.

  The chattering of excited young voices outside the door of her cell propelled a piercing cry

  from her lips.

  The door flew open to reveal the two young men who had followed Ameia into the building.

  “Hey guys, Dinner’s awake…” Fangs dropped to gleam in a face not old enough to vote.

  Vampires living in the centre of human populace…

  The shock of discovery, the awful truth of why Ameia was in town, hit her with brutal force.

  A conclave of young vamp
ires had escaped the notice of both the Sidhe and the Dark Court.

  That her adopted sister was a part of an off-shoot of predatory creatures clamped her lips

  tight shut. Her only hope was to play dumb. If they discovered she was friend to the Queen

  of the Dark Court, they would either run or kill her outright.

  By keeping quiet she may survive long enough for help to come. Teague had tried to teach

  her to stretch her mind, to reach the part of her brain equipped to communicate silently.

  She shied away from such intimate contact. There were many things in her past she wasn’t

  proud of. Letting Teague loose in her mind to discover what she had endured to survive in an

  uncaring world, made her blush with shame.

  “That’s better…” The cocky young vampire indicated to her compressed lips.

  “It’s disgusting when food argues with you.”

  Alex was left in no doubt as to what her fate was to be. She was about to become a living

  blood bank for a seedy bunch of adolescent nightmares. A jostling line formed outside the

  door of her cell. “Stop shoving you lot. We all get a turn.”

  Eyes wide at the callousness in a snarled command, Alex shuffled further into the corner

  of the hovel. She had met members of the Dark Court. They had been polite and charming.

  These creatures didn’t give a damn about the life of a young woman they were about to

  devour. As the first of her tormentors entered the room, she began to fight back, kicking

  and screaming to attract outside attention.

  “Shut her up, hold out her arms and legs… Let’s get this over with.”

  Oh God, I will remember you, Alex promised as the image of a cute boyish face was seared

  into her brain, when the first of many fangs pierced her thigh.

  Her mental scream was loud and strong as she bucked under the press of hungry bodies.

  Slowly Alex lost consciousness, overwhelmed by the sheer number of ravenous vampires.

  This was payback… It had a cute face and sharp fangs, both painful and deadly.

  Teague was assaulted by a mental scream for help at the same time as his brothers.

  It took him less than a second to recognise the anguish came from his Aingeal. As her pain

  became his, a vast bellow of rage echoed throughout Edanholme.

  Knocked to his knees, Teague hung his head in despair as his brethren arrived at his side in

  a wave of translocation. Drusal, the Queen’s mate, lifted Teague to his feet.

  “Alex?” That one word answered all their fears. The Angel of Edanholme was lost to a sea

  of pain. Supporting his distraught brother, Drusal locked minds with a group of shell-shocked,

  stricken warriors. Phelan can you target her position from that one blast of power?

  A silent nod answered the question.

  Kynthelig, can you guide us to it?

  Tears streaming down his face, the guide closed his eyes in concentration.

  Gear up My Brothers…

  They wasted no time in readying for battle. Glowing flares of all the four elements lit up the

  night sky, dispersing to reveal seven of the deadliest warriors known throughout the Sidhe

  realms as the defenders of justice. They were Queen Iscatya’s enforcers of the law.

  Violet eyes glowing with gratitude at the immediate response to a disembodied cry for help,

  Teague bowed low to his brothers in thanks. Turi clapped him hard on the back.

  “Hey man, we all love Aingeal. Once she is safe home, then you can thank the fates you

  finally managed to teach her to shout.” The Bear was hurting as much as his brothers, it didn’t

  stop him being rude about Alex’s limited gifts.

  “Come… Let us go get La Niña back.” Clasping hands to shoulders in a circle of power, tracing

  backwards towards the point of origin of a desperate cry for help, Kynthelig etched the

  location in each restless mind. The clearing was empty in moments.

  Leaving behind an Alex shaped void.

  The warriors shimmered to solid form in a dark cellar. The walls and floor were coated white

  with hoar frost. Holding weapons tight to their bodies, seven towering males crept forward

  ready to despatch the evil that had taken the Angel of Edanholme prisoner.

  Peering round the door of the cellar Drusal’s mouth dropped open. Ushering the rest of the

  males forward, his mind was trying to make sense of the absurdity of the scene.

  Children, adolescents, lay atop one another in a stupor of drugged sleep.

  Recognising the hood of Alex’s bright pink parka peeping out from under the out-stretched

  arm of a ragged teenager, Teague began dragging bodies off the pile.

  Using arms, legs and hair, he tossed them carelessly into the darkness behind him.

  Turi side-swiped a body heading in his direction, a deep growl darkened the scowl on his face.

  “What is your problem Bard?” Using the toe of one boot he rolled a body clear of his path.

  “Aingeal lies beneath this filth…” Teeth clenched in the rictus of a snarl, Teague indicated

  for the Bear to help him remove the trash.

  “Why did you not say so?” Turi barged forward to put mighty shoulders to good use.

  In short order the crumpled figure of the Angel of Edanholme emerged to a victorious

  shout from Turi. Unable to speak, Teague knelt to lift a small body from the frozen ground.

  Face grey from loss of blood, scores of tears in her clothing indicated how many times Alex

  had been bitten. She lay limp and lifeless in Teague’s arms.

  Hot tears fell on her face as the Bard used his air element to infuse her lungs.

  Not only bitten, her body had been crushed, unable to sustain the need to breathe.

  He could only pray to the Fates, that in the short time it had taken to locate Alex, her brain

  had not been starved of oxygen. Laying a hand over her heart, he felt the faintest stirring of

  her chest. “She lives, but just…” His voice was as faint as Aingeal’s heartbeat.

  “Take her back to the house.” A deep voice growled out the command.

  Lifting his head, violet eyes locked with Drusal’s. “What of these things?”

  The restrained violence of the Bard’s usually serene countenance was nearly as horrifying

  as the pathetic shape in his arms. He wanted to rip and tear, to rend the life from the scum

  who had visited death on his mate.

  “Your brother’s and I will deal with the kinder from hell.” Kneeling to touch the cheek of a

  human he once held in distaste, Drusal acknowledged the need in Teague to destroy the

  creatures who had harmed his female. He had been in the same situation not so long ago.

  Unlike the Bard’s rigid composure the wolf in him had wreaked vengeance with fang and

  claw. “Carry her safely home my brother.”

  With a nod of assent a distraught male translocated, to re-materialise at the door of Queen

  Iscatya’s residence, clutching tightly to a cold body.

  Drusal had kept his mate informed of all that had transpired. Iscatya waited for them at the

  head of the staircase. Pregnant with twins, Drusal had decreed she stay safely behind.

  Teague was grateful not to have been privy to that conversation, the Queen hated to be

  dictated to, especially by her mate. The concern on a strained face echoed the Bard’s

  fear for his female. “Let’s get her to bed Teague then we can decide what to do next.”

  “Blood…” Iscatya knelt at the side of the bed to hold the badly damaged body of her best

  friend and beloved sister. “First and foremost, Alex needs blood.”


  The import of the Queen’s diagnosis showed in the shock on the Bard’s face.

  “I can donate some, but not enough to keep her alive. Teague either you feed her or find

  someone who will.” Cat snarled at him, fangs lowering. Sympathy for his dilemma

  softened the explanation of Alex’s plight.

  “She has been drained. The only way to save her is to reinforce the changes taking place in

  a body on the verge of death. Do you want her to die, or can you live with your Aingeal

  becoming as I am? A Vampire…?”

  Kneeling at his Sovereign’s side, Teague knew whatever Alex became, it would not be the

  same as Iscatya. Aingeal did not have the Sidhe heritage necessary to control a raging thirst.

  “My blood is offered if it will save her life.” Laying his hand over the cold fingers of his female,

  Teague shuddered at the thought that between them, they may be creating a monster.

  Cat read the doubts in his mind.

  “What has been done to her is monstrous. The ones guilty of this outrage will be punished

  believe me.” Using her fangs Cat slashed her wrist, letting each precious drop of her essence

  trickle over her friends lips, to seep into parched cells.

  Teague watched in fascination as the soft peach tint of Alex’s normal skin tone began to

  colour a pinched face. Pulling back her wrist, Cat licked the cut sealed.

  “I can’t give more without depriving the babies. Please My Bard, don’t let your fear of losing

  the Alex you know stop you from bringing her back to us. She is incapable of succumbing to

  any form of evil.”

  Holding out his wrist, Teague closed his eyes. The slash of fangs was so swift and sharp,

  the pain was fleeting. Guiding his hand to Alex’s mouth, Cat encouraged her to drink with

  a soothing murmur of shared friendship and love. The gentle pull on his skin brought Teague’s

  eyes wide open. The rhythmic movement of Aingeal’s throat as she swallowed his life blood

  made his heart thump wildly. It was too late to stop the changes evident in the filling out of

  pink lips, the deepening flush of life beneath her skin. Whatever changes caused in a body

  he loved, the guilt lay with him.