Forsaken (Ancients of Light #1)

by Heather Fleener

  The last time he dropped his lips to hers and he let them stay there. His tongue played over her lips, urging them to part. When she complied he growled into her mouth and twisted their position on the couch so that she was half reclined against the arm of it. He sat between her legs, pressing her left leg back against the cushions while her right draped over his lap.

  Her eyes were glittering now and she was watching him through a hooded gaze. He leaned into her, intentionally pressing the side of his hip intimately between her thighs. The heat there was evidence that his feeding her had roused her as much as it had him. She actually groaned and rubbed herself against the touch of his hip. Cole slid a hand up to cup the fullness of her breast through the thin fabric of the cami and was rewarded with the feel of her tightened nipple against his palm. His words were gruff with desire, “You are so sweet, Witch.”

  Not giving her a chance to respond, he crushed his mouth to hers, hot and wild. The thrust of his tongue between her lips caused her hips to instinctively rotate against him. Ella responded, giving him access to her mouth. She returned the heat of his kiss with her own. Ella rubbed her tongue into the recesses of his mouth but quickly returned to lick at one fang and then the next, unable to resist. They were sharp and fully extended by the time he jerked his mouth free of hers. His breathing was labored. Nicholas saw the mischief in her eyes, telling him that she knew exactly what she was doing when she said, “More…I want more…Vamp.”

  He growled in warning and his gaze narrowed on hers. She was daring and inviting at the same time, and they both knew it. Cole was crazed over the revelation that she craved his bite. She kept her gaze steady, even as she raised one hand while leaning her head to the side, brushing back the burnished curls and exposing the column of her throat.

  He couldn’t resist her begging and he was certain she knew it. Just to keep her on edge, Cole returned his mouth to hers for a few minutes more before he finally broke free to lick her pulsepoint. His hand slid up to cup her chin, fingers splaying over her cheek to hold her there while he licked up and down the length of her neck. Her hips were rocking against him and he could tell she was dying for him to bring her to the same peak of ecstasy he had the night before.

  Cole grazed her throat with his teeth. Positioning his bite, he demanded hotly, “Is this what you want Ella?” He sank in slow and deep while Ella arched into him, her whispered ‘yes’ was nearly lost in the heated gasp that followed. Drawing on the wound in her neck, he slipped both arms around her and held her body tight to his while he drank his fill. Ella shivered with the pleasure that was spreading through her. Each pull on her neck had her rocking her hips up in a demanding rhythm, all the while she cupped the back of his head with her palms, trying to keep him at her neck.

  He groaned against her flesh, licking at the blood that flowed there. Her taste was so sweet. Cole wanted to keep drinking, as badly as he wanted to carry her back to her bed and play with her the remainder of the night. He felt a tremble pass through her. In her current state of arousal, she probably would have allowed him to drink until she passed out. Slowly pulling his fangs from her neck, his hand lifted to brush a few stray tendrils back from her face.

  Cole peered down at her. Ella finally lifted her lids and brought her hand up to stroke his cheek; it was obvious that she was expecting him to pick her up and take her back to the bed. Her body was demanding fulfillment and in her current condition he doubted she would deny either of them any pleasures he might request. It was exactly what he wanted, but his plan called for him to do otherwise and he was resolved in seeing it through to its end. Instead, Cole fixed her with a stern look and tapped a finger on the end of her pert nose, “Ella, you will not resist me again.”

  At her confused look, a hint of a smile curved his lips. Cole appreciated very much the evidence of how he had dazed her, “You will not deny me access to you…you will not bar me from your home.”

  This time, she weighed her answer for all of a split second. He felt yards closer to victory when she answered, “I suppose I will not, Cole.”

  He smiled warmly and stood up, dropping only a quick kiss to her brow, “Good, Ella. Get some rest, I will be here at dusk tomorrow to pick you up.”

  She did not have time to object before he shadowed away and was dumbfounded at the abrupt cessation to their play. Ella also could not believe he had left her in such a state. She gazed longingly at the spot where Cole had been but second before. To herself she acknowledged the overwhelming feeling of disappointment that had also come with his leaving and it had little to do with the pool of lust he had left her in.

  CHAPTER 7

  Dunkirk barely glanced up from the papers in his hands when Nicholas shadowed into the kitchen. From all appearances, he had not left the spot he had occupied before Nicholas’s departure. There was a hint of laughter in his greeting, “You’re home earlier than expected. Did the Witch send poor Nicholas home a wee bit crispy round the edges?”

  Nicholas laughed, not pausing on his way to the cabinet. He desperately needed a drink and not the kind from the vein. Snagging his favorite bourbon and two glasses, he joined his friend back at the island in the center of the kitchen, “Not hardly.” Leaning against the counter, he pushed one of the two in Dunkirk’s direction, drawling, “Try not to break this one.”

  Dunkirk nodded his thanks and tossed back the expensive liquor in a single gulp, prompting Nicholas to slide the entire bottle over. After Dunkirk refilled his glass and emptied it twice more, he pushed his papers within reach of Nicholas and informed him derisively, “Rhydach’s latest intelligence report on the activities of Lorcan and his Light warriors. It does not appear that there is much going on, except that we have been handing them their asses on a regular basis.”

  The giant smirked. He was nearly as old as Cole and a true Scottish Highlander. Dunkirk appreciated the fray of a hard fought and won battle more than much else. He had no loyalty to Rhydach, or his cause, and he understood that deep down that neither did his friend. The mission of the Darks suited Nicholas’s purpose, providing the forum he needed to war against the forces of the Light. Dunkirk was loyal to Nicholas, none other. While he did not share his friend’s animosity towards all things Light, he would fight and fight well, because it was what he had always done.

  Nicholas gave a perfunctory review of the report before disgust crossed his face. He had such little regard for Rhydach. If the vampire had any sense, the Light could have been destroyed centuries ago, but their leader’s greed and lust for power always came first. As such, his strategies were generally poor and badly executed. In Nicholas’s opinion, Rhydach was a sadistic degenerate and his nasty Dark witch mate was none better. He looked forward to the day when the pair rotted in the pit of Hell together and he would be the first to raise a toast to their demise.

  At this moment, however, their intentions aligned with his, so Nicholas played his role as commander in the Dark one’s forces and brought victory against the Light whenever possible. Disgusted, he wadded the papers and tossed them carelessly across the kitchen, “Useless drivel, all of it. Lorcan will be feeding Rhydach his own entrails if the idiot does not press his advantage soon.”

  Nicholas knew Lorcan well enough, had battled him hard over the centuries. He had a healthy respect for the Warrior of Light, even if he had none for the Light that Lorcan served. Settling a solemn gaze on Dunkirk, his voice conveyed no hint of doubt, “The Warrior and his Elite will rally soon enough and there will be hell to pay.”

  At Dunkirk’s agreement, he waved all thoughts of the report away and continued, “If the Warrior ever makes a true alliance with the Witch breed again, they will be a powerful force. Rhydach will find himself embroiled in a war of a magnitude that he has not seen in thousands of years.”

  All knew that the alliance of the Witch and the Vampire within the Light had nearly annihilated Rhydach and his Dark forces a little over twenty-five hundred years earlier. That was before the rift between the two faction
s of Light. Rhydach took credit for the plot to set the Vampire and Witch against one another. Nicholas personally believed that laying the ground work to establish Lorcan’s witch mother as the source of the betrayal against the Light faction of Vampire was beyond Rhydach’s level of intelligence. The slaughtering of Alaric’s Coven and subsequent murder of Brisen by her own mate, which shattered the alliance between the Vampire and the Witch of the Light, required a level of forethought and scheming that was beyond the demented Dark one.

  Though he had not been created until nearly seventeen hundred years after, he had gained enough sense of Rhydach over the past eight hundred years to know the leader lacked the ability to devise that type of plan. More likely, it was his Dark Witch consort, Turloch, who had orchestrated the great deception. While Rhydach was a sadist that ruled by fear, Turloch was the epitome of evil. The dark Witch had demonstrated his cunning time and again. Nicholas kept his distance from that one; he knew not what Turloch’s end game was, but he was certain that it was not to be the subservient pawn of Rhydach forever.

  Dunkirk interrupted the trail of his thoughts, “Did you make headway with the Witch then?”

  Changing course immediately, the question brought a smile to his face. Cunning was not unique to Turloch. Nicholas snatched the bottle back and topped off his glass before leaning his elbows against the cool tiles on the counter, “Understatement, Dunkirk, understatement.” Still grinning, he took a long sip of his bourbon, “Ella is a delightful little creature.”

  This plan was his alone. It had been of his own making since he had learned of her existence, and he had come into that knowledge prior to her birth twenty-six years earlier. Rhydach knew nothing of the girl. At least, if he did know of her existence, he had no idea of how truly special she may be. The secret of her birth, her true origin, would remain his, to be used as he saw fit. Initially it had not been in his mind to seduce her away from the Light. When she had returned to Chicago from the Realm, he intended only to keep watch over her and monitor the development of her magic. His plan had been simple at that time – if the girl began to exhibit great power, he would have ended her life before her full strength could be realized. Over the last eight years, Ella had grown from a depressed eighteen year old girl into a vibrant beauty and his plan had evolved. He had decided to use himself as bait to lure her away from the Light, willingly sacrificing himself for the cause, because as she had matured she had tempted him beyond measure with her beauty while her magic seemed to stagnate.

  Rubbing his hand through the full, scruffy red beard covering the lower half of his face, Dunkirk eyed Nicholas thoughtfully. He was as burly and grizzly as Nicholas was clean-cut and lean. Shoving his glass away, he queried, “She has not realized you are Dark then?”

  Another long sip, Nicholas’s eyes narrowed with the direction of his thoughts, “I said she was delightful, not dense.” Ella was indeed lovely. Her eyes sparkled with that magic glow when she was hot for him; they had been all but shooting green sparks tonight. His eyes darkened, the memory rousing a bit of his unsated lust when he added, “She knew that within five minutes of our first encounter…she noted the lack of Light markings on my wrists.”

  Dunkirk shook his head with that disclosure. He had yet to encounter a witch, except for those that had aligned themselves with Rhydach, that would tolerate the presence of a known creature of the Dark. His tone was chocked full of disbelief, “Why hasn’t she cooked you yet? I know the women flock to you, but not a witch of the Light and certainly not a Fire Maker. That is impossible even for you.”

  Fortunately, the cards dealt the girl had been the perfect play for him. Nicholas smirked, “She was born of the Fire Caste, friend. Fire Makers are nearly fanatical in their purity, or at least that is the appearance they like to project. I personally think most of them are a bunch of twisted nuts.” His tone conveyed his abhorrence and he shuddered just a bit, “Think Puritans, on steroids.”

  Nicholas tossed back the remainder of his glass and pushed it away before he explained, “Ella was born out of wedlock. Her mother refused to identify the girl’s father and was ostracized because of it. The effects of that spilled over to the girl as a child. They moved to the States when Ella was a toddler and lived a human life. Her mother only returned to the Realm when the girl’s magic began to come in strongly. Ella never found her place in her Caste, so she has never identified herself entirely with the Realm. The poor lass feels closer to the human species than she does her own.”

  At Dunkirk’s sage nod, he continued, “Ella stayed with the Caste only a short time after her mother was killed and then she went back to the comfort of her humans. She has dissociated herself entirely from the Witch, her only remaining interaction with the Realm are visits from Myrrdyn.” Nicholas noted Dunkirk’s interest piqued at that and he nodded to confirm, “Aye, Dunkirk, the Ancient Sorcerer is the only true friend that the girl has ever had in the Realm. Interesting, is it not?”

  Dunkirk’s brow furrowed as he contemplated it, “Do you suppose that Myrrdyn senses great power in the witch? Why else would he pay particular attention to one that has disassociated herself from her faction?”

  Nicholas smiled wickedly at that, “Yes, why indeed?” Pausing to let the thoughts fester, he finally continued, “Ella has been with the humans these past eight years; she barely understands the dynamics of the Realm, nor does she care to do so. While her initial reaction to the realization that I am not of the Light was, in fact, to ‘roast me,’ she was easily swayed from that. It was a learned reaction.” Nicholas swirled the dregs of bourbon in the bottom of his glass, “She has never truly had cause to feel in her own heart a strong animosity towards the Dark. If anything, she harbors more animosity towards the Fire Caste because of their treatment of her mother.”

  He shrugged, finishing his explanation, “My being Dark has about the same significance to her as me preferring my coffee black to hers with cream.” He laughed at Dunkirk’s dubious expression, “That is oversimplifying, but you get my meaning.” Feeling the approach of dawn, he pushed away from the counter. The automatic shutters on the kitchen windows began their slow glide to close.

  Dunkirk rose with him, “Do you mean to turn her to the Dark then?”

  Nicholas stepped past him, thumping his good friend’s shoulder as he did, “I had intended that. I think her powers will grow, that she will have no small amount of strength with her magic, but…” He paused, turning back to face Dunkirk from the doorway, “I am not going to serve the witch up for Rhydach. Her loyalty will be to me and whatever cause I decide, Dark or any other. I intend to keep her for myself.”

  He nodded at his friend’s surprised look and shadowed off to his rooms.

  CHAPTER 8

  After Cole’s abrupt departure, he occupied Ella’s thoughts the remainder of the night, causing her to toss and turn. Her mind was unwilling to shut down until the wee hours of the morn. As a result, she had slept late, did not accomplish half of what she intended, and was in a bit of a mood.

  The crux of it was that she wasn’t certain why the vampire had fixated on her and that was unsettling. If he had been a normal - rather a human - male, she would have enjoyed his company without giving it a second thought. The very fact that Cole was Vampire and kept company with the evil side of the Realm caused her to begin to question him each time he left her. It also made her question her sanity because she did not want to have those thoughts at all. Ella knew she needed to stop seeing him but she had no desire to push him away.

  She was having fun and felt no need to hide any facet of herself. Cole made her feel more vibrant and alive than she had in any time that she could remember. He was intelligent, sexy, had beyond excellent taste in wine and apparently everything else. All of that just made the pull she felt towards him near impossible to resist. Ella knew she was going to have serious regrets when she finally turned him away.

  The sky was turning purple when a sharp rap sounded at her door. That whole pushing away
thing wasn’t happening tonight she decided resolutely. Smoothing her palms down her jean-covered thighs and giving herself a quick glance in the mirror, Ella took a second to fluff her hair. When she swung the door open wide, she was greeted with a leering grin, fangs and all.

  Her laughter followed and Cole reached up to ruffle her freshly prepped hair, “Hi Princess.” Ella ran her eyes over him and her heart skipped a beat. He was dressed in a sharp black suit matched with a brilliant white shirt and patterned white tie that set off his dark good looks amazingly well. He appeared completely relaxed in his elegance, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest while he patiently waited for her to finish sizing him up.

  Ella blushed when she realized that she had been caught ogling him, which only caused his grin to widen. He returned the favor, taking in the snug fit of her jeans and the plain white button-up blouse that only hinted at the fabulous curves he knew were beneath. He shook his head, inclining it to indicate her outfit, “While I think I would have great fun peeling you out of those jeans, this just won’t do at all.”

  She pivoted and walked back towards her sitting area, a nonchalant wave of her hand granting him access to her space, “If you had bothered to wait a moment before you disappeared…” The frown she gave him over her shoulder told him exactly what she thought about his abrupt vanishing the night before, “…I would have been able to tell you that I have a shift beginning in two hours and that whatever you wanted to do tonight would need to be quick.” Ella was stung by his assessment of her appearance and her words had been sharper than they might have been otherwise. Obviously he found her lacking, but how was she to know he was going to come dressed like Mr. Big City for a night on the town.

  Cole stepped just inside the door, not bothering to shut it and remained there, instructing imperiously, “You will have to call off.”