The Jaded Hunter

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Jaden’s hands ran down over Tyr’s working buttocks, delighting in the strain of his strong muscles. Tyr growled the sound of a ravishing beast that took what he wanted. Spinning with undead force, he dropped her on the bed, keeping their bodies together. Jaden landed in the soft, white fur. It tickled her responsive flesh as she sprawled out beneath him. Her legs draped over the side, wrapping around Tyr as he stood.

  Tyr kept his feet on the floor. Lifting her feet over his shoulders, he pumped his hips with abandon. Through the narrowed slits of his eyes, he saw Jaden’s hands grasping the fur above her head. He saw her peaked nipples, erotically hard, bouncing in wicked invitation. He leaned forward and grabbed her shoulders, anchoring his feet to the stone as he drove into her.

  Jaden’s feet flexed and folded into the air by the side of his head. As he bent over her, he could press deeper into her core. She screamed out in pleasure, her need matched his. The fire built within them, echoing between their bodies as they felt the other’s emotions coursing through them. They tried to hold on to the moment. They tried to forget the future. They drove it away with their yearning. All they had was now, this one moment when they were together, exploding together with all the power of a keg of black powder to a match.

  Jaden’s yell echoed the chamber. Tyr’s viciously hollered victory reverberated to join her. They didn’t care who heard them, couldn’t think to. Tyr released himself into her, pouring out all the emotion he couldn’t tell her with words. And Jaden took it, never understanding how he truly felt.

  He stood transfixed, thrust wholly inside her, enjoying the feel of her subsiding quivers, knowing he had done it to her. Jaden gasped, her back arching lightly. Pulling out of her sensitive warmth, he withdrew his member with purposeful slowness. Jaden trembled, feeling every inch of him as he left her.

  “Mmm,” Jaden hummed for a lack of words, after the shivering subsided enough for her to move. Her mouth parted in a gasp of feminine rapture.

  Tyr chuckled, the laugh of a sated being. Jaden weakly clawed her way back on the bed, pulling her weakened legs up to join her. Tyr crawled forward, landing at her side.

  Looking over at him, she admitted with a catlike purr of contentment, “I feel as if I should be breathless. My heart is beating so fast.”

  “It takes a while to get used to it.”

  Jaden’s face fell. She turned her expression to the ceiling. She might not have awhile.

  “No,” he whispered. “Don’t think about it. Think about me. Think about now.”

  I always think about you, she admitted silently, though she would never let him hear it. Since the night I saw you in the alley, you are all I ever think about.

  Tyr’s hand roamed her body. His heart still hammered from their lovemaking, but his body craved her with an urgency that couldn’t be filled. Seeing a look in her eyes as they moved over the ceiling, he asked, “What is it?”

  “I was just wondering how it is we can sleep down here and not be in a coffin,” she responded as the thought filtered through her head.

  “This whole island used to be a burial ground,” he answered absently. Kissing her with a devastating thoroughness, he probed in naughty mischief, “You didn’t want to sleep, did you?”

  Jaden smiled, hiding her fear well within her breast. She never wanted to sleep again. Instead of answering, she kissed him. Her arms wrapped around his body and they made love all through the vampire night. Only near dusk out of sheer exhaustion did they finally drift into sleep, cradled in each other’s arms, clinging to the last moments of their time together.

  * * *

  The next evening, Jaden was awakened by a servitor. The mortal woman’s eyes stared past Jaden’s shoulder as she tugged the vampiress’ naked body insistently from the bed. Jaden stood, stretching her arms above her head. Turning, she glanced down at Tyr. His face was still, his chest unmoving. She smiled sadly. His hair was disheveled from their lovemaking, scattered over their pillows, and yet he still managed to look perfect.

  Jaden stood. Her body stung with sweet contentment. The servitor handed her clothes. It was a white robe to match those of the servants. Jaden slipped into the fine linen, glad that it was at least thick enough to hide her nakedness.

  She began to reach over to wake Tyr, but the hand on her arm stopped her. The servitor shook her head, motioning silently that Jaden was to follow her alone. Jaden gulped, not understanding and not wanting to leave Tyr behind. They hadn’t talked of what should happen this day. They hadn’t talked of their short future.

  The servitor led her from the chamber, moving with the silent presence of a ghost. Jaden trailed behind her, bare feet sweeping in light brushes over the clean floor. The stones were cold against her skin, the flimsy garment offering little in the way of warmth. Jaden smiled ruefully. It was her body that offered little warmth to the garment. Suddenly, the servitor stopped. Turning, she pushed open a solid door affixed with only the Drauger symbol.

  “Ragnhild,” Jaden whispered, automatically remembering the old Viking leader.

  She followed the lifeless gestures to enter. Hugging the linen over her chest, she suddenly felt naked without undergarments. Resignedly, she looked around the dim chamber. It was laid out in much the same way as Tyr’s, only with more lavishness to the décor and there were no books. Jaden’s eyes instantly found the vampire lounging back amidst brown fur. His bare shoulders peeked out from beneath the coverlet.

  “Y-you sent for me?” Jaden cleared her throat. Ragnhild threw back his covers revealing a woman hidden beneath, clinging to his waist. The woman yawned, blinking as she looked around in the firelight. Then, with the passionless grace of one of the zombie servants, she slipped on her clothing and left.

  Seeing the pale vampire unabashedly naked, Jaden averted her eyes. The act of modesty amused Ragnhild greatly and he laughed, murmuring in a language too old for her to understand. With no gesture from him, the fireplace blazed at his side with a brighter flame. For a moment, he studied her in the firelight.

  “You have eaten,” he said matter-of-factly. Appreciation of her beauty lit his features. “It has done you very well.”

  Jaden shivered at his husky tone and glanced behind her to the closed door. Ragnhild ignored her discomfort as he slipped breeches over his legs, letting the laces hang open at the side. Then, staying bare-chested, he crossed over to the trembling young one.

  Jaden’s thoughts raced frantically. She hugged her arms about her tighter. She felt a potent sexuality coming from the ancient Norseman.

  Ragnhild leaned over, murmuring into her ear, “I have no use of you that way, little one. As you have seen, I have a servant who sees to those needs.”

  Jaden jolted, relieved and alarmed. Ragnhild paused to sniff her, sensing Tyr’s recent claim. When he had paced fully around her in inspection, he went back to the bed to lean on the end.

  “Why have you sent for me?” Jaden managed in growing trepidation.

  “Certainement,” he murmured quietly in a perfect accent. “Apprendre vous.”

  Jaden eyed him, unsure how to answer. Weakly, she repeated, “Certainly…?”

  “You don’t understand me, do you, dhampir?” His brows furrowed quizzically on his handsome face.

  Jaden shook her head.

  “And,” Ragnhild began in a murmur. He turned, producing the damning folder from beneath the fur at the end of his bed. He held it up for her inspection. “You cannot read this.”

  “No,” she admitted weakly. “I can’t. I don’t know what it says.”

  “I figured as much. But because you cannot read it, does not mean you were not involved with it. Your ties to your uncle run deep, do they not?”

  “Yes,” she answered honestly. “He raised me when my mother died.”

  “Ah, Rhona, was it not?” Ragnhild asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And Bhaltair?”

  “He was my father.” Jaden looked him square in the eye. Not waiting to be asked, she said, “Hi
s death was my responsibility.”

  “Ah,” Ragnhild said thoughtfully. “Taking full responsibility for it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”

  “And do you believe you should be punished for it?”

  Jaden instinctively knew this creature could probe her and find the truth. But instead he waited for her to answer. She didn’t dare lie to him. In a solemn whisper, she said, “Yes.”

  “And the mortal we have captured?”

  “He has nothing to do with this and should be set free. He is an honorable man who was only trying to rescue me out of a misplaced sense of duty.” Jaden refused to meet Ragnhild’s eyes. “If you let me talk to him, I can assure you he will cause you no more harm. He belongs in the human military and I have told him as much. Humans are always on the brink of war. He will be busy and needed.”

  Ragnhild waved his hand as if unconcerned for their mortal prisoner. His face was blank, not even drawing in thoughtfulness. It was as much of a dismissal as she would get from him. The same servitor who had awakened Jaden opened the door and stepped in. Gently, the woman pulled on Jaden’s elbow to signify that she was to follow.

  Jaden left, wondering at the strange interview and not knowing if what she had said made a bit of difference. Ragnhild was too old and powerful for her to try to sense. Even her developed dhampir senses wouldn’t have detected him unless he so wished it. It was like reading a corpse in the grave—nothing but infinite blackness.

  Jaden trailed silently through the hall, making her way back to Tyr’s room. The servitor left after opening the door for her. When Jaden walked inside, Tyr was gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tyr’s eyes roamed evenly over the council hall. He detected the light scent of Jaden’s body on his skin and knew the elders must have sensed it also. They didn’t question him about it and he didn’t offer. Clenching his fists, he could still feel her soft flesh on his palms. The curves of her lips were still imprinted to his mouth.

  The door opened and Ragnhild entered. Tyr nodded to the vampire. Ragnhild took his place among them, turning to look at Tyr with the same lack of expression the others displayed.

  “Where is the dhampir?” Tyr asked, unable to resist knowing. His hand trembled and he balled it into a tight fist. “Has she been sent to her punishment?”

  “No,” Ragnhild clipped evenly.

  Tyr felt relief sweep through him. He hadn’t realized the fear that had overtaken him since discovering Jaden was missing from his bed. He had reached for her before fully waking, only to find her gone.

  “Let us get to the point,” Chara sighed. She tilted her head, her eyes boring into Tyr’s. “Do you think she’s guilty of killing her father?”

  Tyr considered lying. It rose up on his lips. Remembering his promise, he couldn’t do it. Nodding his head, he said, “She is inadvertently responsible, though she did not deal the death blow. However I do not think she meant it.”

  “Meant it?” Andrei laughed. “Bhaltair is dead. There’s enough meaning in that.”

  Tyr nodded.

  “And of the MacNaughton crimes, do you think she has committed them?” Ragnhild asked.

  “Logically, yes,” Tyr answered, his jaw becoming stiff. “She had the folder in her bag. When I abducted her from her uncle’s building for questioning, I took the bag, not knowing its contents. She then later omitted telling me of the existence of the documents on several occasions. I found them.”

  “And do you feel she has committed these crimes?” Ragnhild asked. To their highly evolved senses, feelings were just as important as logic.

  Tyr swallowed. He couldn’t keep the truth from being voiced. “No. I don’t sense the cruelty in her.”

  “Is it true,” Pietro stated in distaste, “that you have become…involved with this dhampir?”

  “Yes,” Tyr answered. There was no point in denying that either. They could smell it on him.

  “His judgment is affected by a weakness of the flesh,” Pietro muttered cruelly. “I say we kill her and be done with it.”

  “Pietro,” Chara said. “You grow wearisome in your old age. I think you wish for the entire world to die—including yourself. If you are so miserable, why don’t you find yourself a nice sunrise to watch? I am sure the brilliant colors will make you happy.”

  Pietro grumbled and held silent.

  “What, no response?” Chara goaded.

  “Is your judgment affected?” Theophania asked quietly, readily breaking into her sister’s verbal attack on Pietro.

  “I do not believe it is,” he answered. Daring to turn his eyes around to Pietro, he said, “Duty is duty and I have always done mine. Feel inside me if you think me dishonest.”

  Pietro waved his hand, disinterested. Tyr nodded and turned back around to Theophania.

  “Do you think to love her?” Curiosity burned brightly in Theophania’s eyes as she continued to speak, as if uninterrupted. “Do you remember what love is, Tyr? Can you feel it coursing in your veins? Because what you feel cannot be that human love echoing in your mind. Vampires are not made for love, for the emotion is not made to last for an eternity. The sooner you kill any inkling of it, the sooner you’ll find some sort of peace. I have seen the greatest brought low by the memories of it. I had thought you old enough and wise enough to know better. For our kind, especially you, my Dark Knight, it is better to be alone. So, tell me, Tyr of the Drauger. Tell me, do you think to love this dhampir?”

  Her words were soft. As she finished, Theophania’s eyes narrowed in sorrow. Something in her was daring him to deny her, begging him to. Tyr hesitated, not knowing how to answer. Could he lie? Did he even know the truth anymore? The elders watched him carefully for a response. They all knew the myth of the vampire being an unfeeling being was just that, a myth. Vampires were like humans, only more. They were driven by more, felt more, craved more. They could feel and in the beginning did so often, reveling in the pleasure and pain of it all, conquering the world like gods. But, as it must, time hardens what is left of the soul if ever a soul they had. The only certainty was that time for them would go on. And time held a great many changes. There was no reason to cling to what must inevitably pass.

  Tyr’s eyes fell to the ground. He knew the council would try to save him from himself. How could he admit what he didn’t himself know? If he did think to love her, would they kill her to protect and keep their soldier? Lust, desire, need—these were things he could know for certain. They were superficial, temporary, readily discovered all over again. As they waited, Tyr didn’t speak. There was nothing he could say.

  * * *

  Jaden sat alone in Tyr’s room, unable to move from her place on the end of the bed. Closing her eyes, she tried to feel him. Her memory sensed him on the coverlet—the scent of him, so familiar. She had no idea how much time passed before she was retrieved by the same servitor. The woman led her needlessly to the hall. Jaden could’ve found her way. The sensations behind the thick oak door willed her onward.

  As she entered the hall, she glanced around. Tyr was gone. Her heart thumped solemnly in her barren chest. Remembering his words about strength, she walked forward, her chin not too proud and not too meek, until she stood on the outside edge of the circular ring of a table.

  The tribal leaders stared at her in expectation. Theophania waved her into the middle. Jaden nodded. Going forward, she hesitated before reaching to climb over the Moroi spot on the circle. She struggled with her skirts, trying not to let them ride up as she sat and swung her legs over to the side.

  Andrei laughed in self-amusement. In a low murmur, he whispered to no one in particular, “He hasn’t trained her to her nature at all. So young she is. Like an infant.”

  Jaden hopped down to the ground, feeling as if she was stepping into a pit of snakes. Facing Theophania, she came to stand by the torch that settled from the ceiling to rest on the floor. She felt Pietro’s eyes boring into her back and did her best to keep her mind blank as she wai
ted.

  Chara’s head tilted and she smiled. Letting her eyes roam sensually over Jaden’s body in appreciation, she murmured, “So pretty. So fresh.”

  Andrei’s gaze alighted on her and he gave her a wicked, lopsided grin of appreciation.

  “You stand accused of experimenting on defenseless vampires for the sake of human knowledge and gain,” Theophania began without preamble. “Name the vampire who helped you in this and we will be lenient.”

  “I don’t know who did it. But—” Jaden was cut off with a hard look.

  “Will you let us inside of your head to prove the answer we seek is not there?” Chara asked.

  “I know it’s not.” Jaden looked at their cold faces. She didn’t want them to read inside of her, to invade her. They might find her love for Tyr. They might discover how she fooled him into becoming locked in the prison. She didn’t want him hurt. “I didn’t know about the experiments until I found that folder.”

  “Then why did you try to hide the evidence of it?” Amon asked.

  Jaden looked around helplessly.

  “What are you hiding, dhampir?” Vishnu asked.

  “Let us in,” Andrei cried.

  She felt them all coming at her. She lifted up her hands, fighting off the invisible attacks. Falling to the ground, she lifted her hands over her head and rocked herself.

  “Stay out, stay out,” she exclaimed desperately. Suddenly, the onslaught stopped. She raised her eyes from her place on the floor. Not bothering to stand, she whispered miserably, “I have killed vampires. I admit to that. I’m a dhampir and bloodstalker. I’ve sat in judgment of the vampire kind. But I hunt no more and now I’ve been made one of you. I don’t know what it means to be one of you. I never asked to see an eternity. In fact, the night I found Tyr, I only asked for death.”