Forsaken (Ancients of Light #1)

by Heather Fleener

  Damn she pleased him. Cole ignored the aching need he had to wrap himself up in her silky heat and instead rolled up from her, grinning. A wave of satisfaction spread over him and he pressed a single finger against her lips, reminding her, “Mine Ella, only mine.” He propped a hand on the mattress, the intensity on his face was mesmerizing as he leaned down. He needed to make certain Ella was as eager when she wasn’t desperate for him to pleasure her. His next words kept her attention, “I am going to mark your neck Ella. That means I am claiming you.”

  Ella was not familiar exactly with what was involved, but she got the gist of his words. Cole was set on keeping her. His earlier words had not just been heated pillow-talk. Her eyes widened, all thoughts the ecstasy he had just given her eradicated.

  Cole could see that her mind was racing, so he leaned down and gave her one more numbing kiss. Before he straightened and stood, he whispered against her lips, “And you are going to want it as much as I do.” He swept his hand down her body and rubbed his fingers slowly over the material between her legs, pulling a moan from her, “As much as I do Princess...” He smiled at her once more and had the audacity to wink before he was gone.

  Ella laid there in shock, taking three, slow, deep breaths before she rolled over and punched her pillow. She was furious at him for leaving without allowing her to ask him more, without so much as a goodbye. She was furious with herself for being unable to maintain any control over the feelings he evoked in her. The pillow was punched one more time for good measure before she dropped her face into it, murmuring with dismay in response to his last taunt, “I already do.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The next eight weeks were a blur - a delightfully fun, frustrating, heated blur. Except for limited evenings when Cole had to attend to ‘business’ in the Realm - his explanation never went further than that - he kept up his nightly visits. Sometimes he would plan adventures in one of his favorite exotic locales. There was something to be said for his shadowing ability and Ella loved that he spirited her away to places she might otherwise never have the opportunity, and especially the means, to visit.

  Other nights, Cole would take her to one of his many homes and spend a casual evening chatting with her over dinner and holding her cuddled up to his side, watching some flick late into the night. During those weeks she found little about him that did not strike her as absolutely perfect; however, Ella did poke fun at him each time it was his turn to choose their movie. It inevitably featured a diabolical vampire meeting his end with a well-placed stake in the heart.

  Unwilling to sacrifice her long nights with him that ran into the wee hours of the morning, she was also trying to maintain some semblance of normal in the other aspects of her life. Ella had been burning the candle at both ends. While beginning to look for new opportunities so that she could decide what she wanted to be when she grew up – at least during this lifetime - Ella also had her shifts at work. Cole would serve as her escort when she was ready to depart. Even though she had been making her way home in the late hours of darkness for many years, he was adamant that she would not make the journey alone. On those nights, he varied between leaving her with a chaste kiss at the door and working her into a passionate frenzy before tucking her in bed.

  When Ella had to work on the few occasions that Cole was otherwise occupied, he sent his hulking friend to watch her. She knew immediately the first evening when he made an appearance that her bodyguard was Dunkirk. Cole’s earlier descriptions of him left no doubt. Although the red-haired giant never introduced himself, never said a word actually, she had no qualms about her safety. He always remained no more than a few paces behind her on her way back to her apartment. She knew little more about him personally than a few funny stories Cole had shared of their misadventures, but Ella did know that Cole trusted him implicitly.

  Tonight when Ella finished her shift, she noted that Dunkirk had been sent as her guardian. The burly vampire was impossible to miss. She knew he would not respond, but she waved in greeting anyway. Her fatigue and need of a good night’s sleep warred with her disappointment over not seeing Cole. Unfortunately her friend Holly snagged Ella on her way out and dragged her back to the bar. In her utter exhaustion, Ella was impatient to leave. She also had no desire to participate in the myriad of questions she knew would be forthcoming.

  Dunkirk was waiting in the shadows for her when she slid onto the stool. She could see the questions lurking in Holly’s eyes and was desperately hoping that the din in the bar was loud enough that Dunkirk would not hear what she presumed would be an embarrassing conversation. Ella released her hair from the confines of the long pony hanging at her back just as two glasses of wine were placed before them.

  Holly wasted no time, “Tell me, naughty Ella, all the hot details…” Before Ella could begin to devise a response, her friend rambled on, “I must assume he is deliciously wicked, since you have had no time for your friends.” Holly gave Ella a mock pout, “I have hardly heard a peep from you since you met him.”

  The claim was completely false and Ella let her know she did not appreciate the blatant exaggeration with a sour frown. Their collective schedules were so busy it was not unusual for her to go many weeks between outings with Holly and Ella had been mindful to respond to every one of the too-many-to-count texts from her friend in order to avoid just such a conversation as this.

  Ella expected Holly would trap her into one eventually though, because Ella had steadfastly ignored any direct queries on specifics about Cole and her relationship with him. She kept her reply short, “I have been working a lot Holly. You know that.”

  She sipped her wine, hoping to no avail that it would be an end of that particular line of questioning. Holly just took a few quick swallows from her own glass before continuing, “Ella, we all think it is great that you finally have a boyfriend. We just want details and it would be nice if you could bring him around. It has been over two months since you met him.”

  Ella merely shook her head, refusing to offer more, her tone curt, “He is not my boyfriend.” She did not add that there was no way she would bring him around. She adored her friends, but she would not subject Cole to them. He was not her boyfriend, after all. She was not quite certain what he was, but ‘boy’ and ‘Cole’ were two words that should never be linked in a sentence.

  Tonight she wasn’t willing to examine, particularly with her eager-beaver friend eyeing her so closely, her concern over whether or not he had changed his mind with regards to what he wanted of her. Since that heated night all those weeks ago, when he had made the claim that he intended to have her as his own, he had not mentioned it again. Cole had remained attentive and he had continued to spoil her with his little surprises. He would often work her into an uncontrolled state of lust, bringing her to an earth shattering release, but sometimes he would just leave her so aroused she had a hard time thinking about anything but him the next day. Other times, he wouldn’t touch her at all except to give her a tender kiss in greeting and another at the end of the night.

  He had not made one attempt to take their intimacy to the next level. If he had had his fun and was planning to end this any time soon, she did not want her friends to be invested in any way. It would be hard for her to let him go, Ella was ready to admit that to herself now. It would be enough to endure without having to hear her friends speak of him with any specific knowledge when they consoled her. It scared her to realize that her enjoyment of the vampire was no longer solely inspired by the physical attraction between them and the fun she was having being entertained by him.

  Ella had not witnessed a single word or deed from Cole that would indicate he was actually Dark. In fact, everything about him spoke just the opposite and for that reason, it had been easy to let down her guard. She was beginning to wonder if the fact that Cole was affiliated with the Darks was because he knew no other way. The man she knew could certainly not be immersed in the evil that was Rhydach and his forces that warred with the Light.

&nbs
p; She answered a few more questions that Holly put to her with carefully constructed responses. Ella did not want to give her friend much to obsess over and she was distracted by the turn her thoughts had taken. Holly, ever watchful, was not to be put off especially when she noted the fine gold chain sparkling on Ella’s wrist with a single emerald dangling from it, “Did your not-boyfriend buy that for you?”

  Ella could not help but smile when she glanced down. Cole had put it on her wrist a few nights ago. First he had roused her to the point of wantonness at the edge of a moonlight lake in some park in the middle of nowhere. Then the evil Vamp had left her in her entryway with nothing more than a kiss on her brow. Shaking off the memory, she chided her friend, “His name is Cole, Holly…Cole.”

  Holly went off on an extended ramble, wanting more details. It was all a blur of babble to Ella and she finally waved the questions off with her hand. Giving Holly a strained smile, she started to slide off the stool, “Holly, I am really very tired and I need to get home. Can we do this another night?”

  Holly sat back at that, eyeing her suspiciously. Catching the faraway look in Ella’s eyes and her absent fingering of the chain on her wrist, she gasped, “OMG, you are in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Ella stiffened, ever conscious that Cole’s friend lingered in the recesses of the shadowy bar, knowing very well the vampire’s acute senses could be tuned in to this. That fact caused her words to be sharper than they might have otherwise been when she hissed, “Shut it, Holly! I am not discussing this.”

  Holly, like a dog with a bone, was not ready to let loose, “You are not denying it.”

  Ella’s temper was pricked. She was not ready to go there on her own, much less discuss her jumbled feelings on the matter with motor-mouth Holly. She pushed away from the bar, still peeved, “I am going home. Drinks are on you.”

  Holly understood well enough that tone from her friend. There would be no information forthcoming tonight, however, she would not be giving up so easily either. Holly gave her a nod in farewell while waving at the bartender to refill her glass, “I’ll call you Ella. Tomorrow.”

  Ella decided then and there her phone would be off. As she threaded through the crowd, she noted with some relief that Dunkirk was loitering near the entrance. She felt certain he had done so to give her privacy with her friend and felt safe that he had not overheard that final question or her inability to respond to it. He gave her a nod upon catching her gaze and took himself out the door to wait on her.

  Tonight, needing a distraction, Ella dropped back in step beside him. She attempted to engage him on their walk, but he maintained his stony silence. Keeping up her one-sided chatter, she liberally made use of the terms ‘vamp,’ ‘leech,’ and ‘bloodsucker’ just to see if she could get a reaction. She was disappointed, his stoic expression never faltered.

  Inspired, Ella pointed to the next passing human and whispered, “I would give him a munch rating of three out of five. What do you say?” Dunkirk glanced at her with eyebrows raised incredulously, as though she were daft. That made her cackle delightedly. When they passed a curvy brunette, Ella spoke again, “Tell me that was not a four point five, Vamp.”

  She continued to rank the passing humans the remainder of the distance home. Finally as they rounded the corner to her apartment, Ella thought he might have issued a long-suffering sigh. Dunkirk tracked behind her up the stairs and she went on, “There must be some way that you decide which ones you will ‘nom nom nom’ on and which you will not? Something…”

  Ella thought she saw just a touch of amusement in his eyes as he watched her unlock her door. It was confirmed when she began to close it and heard his deep voice for the first time ever, “Aye, generally we bite those we find the most annoying, Broomstick.” He had already disappeared and Ella was still laughing when she shut the door behind her.

  Shortly before dawn, Nicholas shadowed into the kitchen of the West Coast manor, looking a little worn around the edges. He found his friend with bourbon, bless him, already poured and waiting. Sighing wearily, he dropped to the stool, “Is she safe?”

  At Dunkirk’s nod, he took a long draw on the amber liquid and ran his hand through his hair while offering explanation for his exhaustion, “Rhydach’s witch minion…” He said it with a sneer, “Turloch is convinced that something is afoot in the Realm. He claims that something is rising and he believes it to be of the Light. Game-changing, he says.”

  Dunkirk remained silent, digesting that piece, but elevated his brow in question so that his friend would continue. Shaking his head in disgust, Nicholas did, “Rhydach has worked himself into a frenzy over it, and has his people…” his expression indicated that ‘his people’ included Nicholas, “…scurrying all over the Realm frantically trying to determine what Lorcan or the Witch faction might be up to. Things are about to get ugly, my friend.” He tilted his glass towards Dunkirk’s in a mock toast.

  Dunkirk looked at him, worry evident on his face. He always remained concerned for his friend, knowing his secrets and his history. He feared that Nicholas’s ongoing association with the Darks and his obsession with fighting everything Light would bring him to an end. Worse would be if it ended up turning him into a twisted beast, just as Rhydach was. Dunkirk refilled both glasses. Taking a long drink, he put the inevitable question to Nicholas, “What of the witch?”

  At that change of subject, Nicholas smiled, his expression softening. Dunkirk would not point out to him, at least not just yet, that his eyes warmed with pleasure at just the thought of Ella. Nicholas fingered the rim of his glass as he considered, “My timing will have to be adjusted. I will need to make certain that she is mine before this all begins.” He nodded, confirming, “It is a good thing that I have planned well ahead and that everything is in place.”

  Dunkirk stood abruptly; it was time for him to take his rest. Tossing back the last of his drink, he inquired gruffly, “Then you’ll be escorting her tomorrow?” At Nicholas’s answering nod, he proceeded, “Good, because the vixen talked my ear off tonight.” There was no ire in his statement and he actually grinned. He was developing an affection for the witch, not only due to the stories Nicholas had related about her and his own assessment of her during their few encounters, but also because of the affect she was having on the spirits of his friend.

  Nicholas laughed at the disclosure. Dunkirk was a fierce looking warrior…his witch must be brave indeed to have decided to needle him. As Dunkirk turned, he gave Nicholas a mocking look, “Good luck tomorrow, my friend, though I do not think you will require much luck.”

  When Nicholas looked at him in question, he continued, “As her annoying little friend so aptly put it tonight at the bar, I believe she is ‘OMG in love’ with you.” Dunkirk bellowed his laughter. It was still echoing when he shadowed off, not before seeing the shocked pleasure that spread across the Warrior of Dark’s features.

  CHAPTER 12

  A week earlier, Ella had changed her protection spell so that Cole could enter at his leisure. He no longer knocked, but had taken to shadowing in. The first night that happened she had shrieked a curse and singed his jacket with an errant fireball. When she had calmed from her fright, he had determined it would be best to always announce his arrivals, mostly to avoid her setting her apartment ablaze in the future. Keeping to form, he had done that tonight, but alarm was swamping him before he finished calling out to her.

  Ella’s apartment was growing dark; there was no flicker of light evident anywhere in her rooms. Calling out to her again, anxiety edged his tone. Nicholas had enemies, probably as many in his own faction as he did within the Light. He had taken measures to be certain that his visits to her home were not being tracked, but the thought that another immortal might try to use Ella as a pawn had his eyes blackened and fangs growing ominously. Making his way stealthily back to her bedroom, he pushed open that door that had been slightly ajar.

  His Vampire sight required no adjustment to the dark interior of the space and l
it on her immediately. Curled on her side and under the fluff of her comforter, Ella was asleep. He stopped in the doorway and studied her, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Cole was loathe to wake her from her slumber; she must obviously need it to be in bed at this hour.

  Her red curls were tumbled haphazard across the pillows in stark contrast to the navy linen of the sheets. Cole could see her pretty face in profile. One arm was curled up with a hand tucked under the pillow, her other gripped the folds of the comforter. Slipping out of his shoes and jacket, he made his way to the other side of her bed. Easing down and under the comforter to slide in next to her, Cole turned so that her backside was cradled into his hips. He inched forward until her back was flush to his chest.

  Propping his head on one hand, he was content to watch her as the minutes ticked by. Ella instinctively cuddled back against him and he could not control the wave of desire the press of her curves caused. His unfulfilled need had grown into a hunger that he feared would be insatiable. He had so many ideas of how he would love her; he could keep her naked and writhing under him for at least a week. Once she was his… the thought had no small amount of anticipation settling over him.

  Twenty minutes passed and he did not know if she was rousing and becoming aware of his presence or if she was in the throes of a dream when the throaty little moan escaped her. She followed it with the soft murmur of his name. Her face nuzzled her pillow and her hips moved sensuously before she stilled. His ego was stroked with the confirmation that she was in fact dreaming of him, and based on the whimpers of pleasure, it was a very, very good dream.